Neither Friend nor Foe
by yellowrose
Summary: You will kill the ring-bearer and bring to me the One Ring. Now COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or story of any of the Lord of the Ring books. These are strictly the property of JRR Tolkein.  
  
Author's Note: Unable to resist the temptation, I find myself writing yet another tale of Samwise Gamgee, fraught with danger and woe! I suspect it will be shorter than my last attempt (18 chapters) but shorter than my first (4). I hope those of you that choose to read this story enjoy it.  
  
Chapter 1 The Gardens of Rivendell  
  
It was a beautiful day in Rivendell. The sun was shining, the flowers blooming, and it seemed as if there was always music in the air. Sam had not had much opportunity to explore the beauty of the elven sanctuary in the time they had been there. All his time had been spent next to Frodo's bed as Sam waited for him to recover. Sam shook his head at the memories : the fight with the horrifying Ringwraiths, Arwen's flight to Rivendell bearing Frodo, and Sam's own worry-filled journey with Strider and the others. He had been terribly frightened when he saw Frodo's lifeless body lying in the large bed. He was so pale and his arm, so deathly cold. They told him that Frodo was fading, turning into a wraith like the Nazgul. Nothing could have been more horrifying to the young gardener. Frodo was his life. If anything happened to him, Sam wasn't sure he could go on.  
  
However, largely due to the healing skills of Lord Elrond, Frodo was on the mend. Sam had heard the wizard, Gandalf, say that the wound would never completely heal, but at least Frodo would recover. Still, Sam refused to leave Frodo's side. He felt it was his duty to remain there to assist his poor master in any way possible during his convalescence. Pippin and Merry stopped by on a regular basis and entertained Frodo and Sam with their tales of adventure. They had become quite enthralled with the elves, the apparently, the elves with them. Elves were always telling them stories, showing them the sights of Rivendell, and the two young hobbits felt quite important.  
  
"Sam." scolded Merry, "You really need to get out more! Rivendell is a marvelous place! The gardens themselves would entertain you for days! They are that magnificent! Look at this incredible apple." He tossed Sam a creamy, translucent fruit. Sam looked at it curiously, then tossed it behind him onto his bed in the adjoining alcove. He would eat it later. Merry went on. "I picked it myself. You would love it! Frodo is doing better now. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went out for an hour or two, would you, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo was leaning back on his pillows. He was still very pale and weak, but looking better every day. His left arm and shoulder felt almost normal again. He smiled at Sam's scowling face. He knew perfectly well that Sam would feel he was being negligent in his duties if he were to go off on some pleasure jaunt just to look at gardens. Frodo wasn't sure Sam had even been out of the room in the days since they had first arrived. He felt a pang of guilt at this.  
  
"Sam," he said gravely, "I think you should go out. No! Wait! Hear me out!" Sam's mouth had flown open in outrage at the Frodo's pronouncement,. Frodo continued. "You have been cooped up in this room with me for days and days now. I hear the gardens of Rivendell are legendary and something no gardener should miss. Who knows, maybe when we return to the Shire, I would like you to plant me some similar gardens! Anyway, Bilbo will be visiting me later this afternoon so I won't be alone. I want you to go and see some of the sights here. After all," he smiled at Sam's glowering face, "You said you couldn't wait to see the elves!'  
  
Sam could see that argument was useless. He had to confess to himself that he did want to see the gardens. Nothing made him happier than to be among beautiful growing things. He had been somewhat envious of Pippin and Merry's freedom and experiences with the elves. Not that he would have considered joining them as long as Frodo was ill mind you, but still. he would dearly love to learn more about the elves and their realm of Rivendell.  
  
As promised, Bilbo arrived early in the afternoon. He had been to visit Frodo many times while he was ill and was delighted to see his nephew's continued improvement. "Hullo, Frodo, m'lad!" he called as he tottered in through the door. He had aged considerably since leaving the Shire and his movements had become slow and stiff. "How are you feeling today?" Sam hurried to bring a chair for Mr. Bilbo and set it near Frodo's bed. He was very fond of the elderly hobbit and had been thrilled to find him here among the elves.  
  
"I'm doing much better, Bilbo," replied Frodo truthfully. "I hope to get out of this bed before too much longer!" He then turned to Sam, who was hovering unobtrusively nearby. "Alright, Sam" he said, "Bilbo is here. I am fine. Now, it is time for you to go out and do a little exploring!"  
  
Sam stood in the corner of the room twisting the ends of a dust cloth he had been using. He was frowning worriedly. He just didn't feel right leaving Mr. Frodo all alone, even if Mr. Bilbo was there. "Well, " he began slowly, "Beggin' yer pardon, Mr. Frodo, but I just don't feel right somehow, leavin' you alone here. What if you need somethin? I really don't mind stayin!" His eyes pleaded with Frodo's to let him remain.  
  
Frodo laughed as he shook his head. "No, Sam," he replied firmly, "You deserve some time to yourself! Just an hour at least! I will be perfectly alright! Now, go!"  
  
Sam sighed deeply, and walked reluctantly to the door. He looked back anxiously at his friend and master lying in splendor in the elaborately carved elven bed. "Go on, Sam!" ordered Frodo, "NOW!" Sighing again, Sam slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. Sam found himself outside, immersed in the shimmering beauty of Rivendell. The towering trees with their gold-tipped leaves, the warm, fragrant air, and the overall peace of the place enthralled him. Maybe an hour or so walking the grounds wouldn't be so bad. He looked around curiously, trying to decide which way to go. A tall, dark-haired elf, resplendent in robes of incandescent blue glided by him. "Um, excuse me, sir" faltered the shy hobbit. He had never spoken directly to an elf before and he was more than a little intimidated. The imposing figure turned towards him.  
  
"Yes?" the elf queried, "Do you require something?"  
  
Sam chewed his lip, unable to reply. His face burned and he tried to find the courage to speak up. How he wished he were back in the safety of Mr. Frodo's room! The elf continued to look down at him, his mouth twitching with humor. Sam took a deep breath and looking down at his feet, mumbled, "Pardon me, sir, but could you point me towards the gardens?" There, he had managed to get the words out! He tentatively raised his eyes to those of the elf's. The elf was smiling.  
  
"Yes, Master Halfling," replied the elf, seeming much friendlier somehow, his dark eyes twinkling, "Simply follow this path. It will lead you to the gardens of Rivendell and into the forests beyond. I hope you enjoy their tranquility." With a nod, the elf continued on his way as Sam stared after him, open-mouthed.  
  
When Sam had gathered his wits about him (elves somehow had an unnerving effect on him), he started down the winding, tree-lined path. Every plant he saw was intriguing to him. As he entered the gardens, he stopped dead in awe. There were bushes bursting with delicate rose-colored blooms, brilliant multi-colored flowers of all shapes and sizes sprang from the ground in elaborate patterns. Sam had never seen so many different kinds in his life. He closely examined each bloom and leaf, attempting to commit them to memory. Perhaps he could plant some of these back in the gardens at Bag End. In his mind, he began creating the magnificent flowerbeds he would create back home. Mr. Frodo would be so surprised!  
  
He continued to walk down the path and soon found himself in the cool forests surrounding the gardens. These were just as soothing to the weary gardener as the elaborate gardens had been. The quiet of the forest twilight relaxed and refreshed him. He continued to walk deeper and deeper into the forest. As he walked along, he eventually noticed that the path skirted the edge of a narrow river. Sam stopped a moment and looked across the river to a small flower-filled clearing just on the opposite side. The flowers were of a brilliant gold and red, and unfamiliar to Sam. He could smell their fragrance on the gentle breeze and he felt an urge to go explore them further.  
  
The path did not go to the river, so he was forced to make his way down the brushy banks to the edge. It was almost as if someone had planted a wall of briars along the river bank. He looked apprehensively at the water flowing quickly over the rocks just beneath the surface. . Fortunately, it didn't look too deep (as Sam could not swim) and he felt he could safely make his way to the other side. He carefully picked his way across, leaping from stone to stone. He almost slipped a few times, but quickly regained his balance. When he made it safely to the other side, he breathed a sigh of relief. He then began to pick his way through the brambles on the far side of the river.  
  
It took longer than he had hoped and when he emerged from the briars, he was hot, scratched and irritable. He was beginning to seriously doubt the wisdom of crossing the river. "Well, you're here now, Samwise Gamgee," he told himself, "Let's go look at them flowers and then we'd best be getting back. Looks like the sun is beginnin' to set!" It was with much surprise that Sam noticed the shadows in the clearing were lengthening and the sunlight was beginning to fade. He told himself he would just look at the flowers for a moment and then head back to Mr. Frodo. It would only take a few minutes or so he thought.  
  
Sam made his way from the river bank into the small clearing. The flowers were amazing! Their bell-shaped blooms glowed in golden sunlight. Sam was entranced by their beauty and their sweet, fruity scent. He could stay here for hours, just breathing in their heady fragrance. He wandered farther into the glade, delighted with what he saw, but as he reached the end furthest from the river, Sam began to experience a feeling of disquietude. He looked around nervously into the darkness of the woods beyond. The shadows were becoming deeper as the sun sank lower into the west. "C'mon, Samwise," he scolded himself, "Yer in Rivendell for goodness' sake! Nothin' will bother you here!" However, he was feeling more and more anxious and decided it was time to leave. As he turned to go, he stopped abruptly and stared in horror. There, hovering in the shadows of the forest was the hulking figure of what appeared to Sam as some sort of hideous monster. He had never seen even a regular orc before and he certainly knew nothing of the monstrous Uruk-hai, Saurman's inhuman creations. If he had known their true nature, he might have been even more frightened.  
  
Sam began to slowly back away, a cold sweat covering his trembling body. He knew that the monster, whatever it was, could easily overtake him, but he was still hoping that perhaps he hadn't been seen. Then, the vile creature spoke, it's voice a low, ominous growl. "I can see you halfling." Sam gasped in fear. It seemed as if he couldn't get enough air. He turned to run, but in his panic, tripped over a branch and went sprawling. Before he could regain his feet, he felt himself lifted into the air and turned to face the horrifying leer of the Uruk. "You are coming with me, Halfling," snarled the monster giving Sam a shake, its breath reeking of rotting meat. "The Master has need of you!"  
  
He dropped Sam to the ground and bound the struggling hobbit's hands. Sam attempted to crawl away, still desperate to escape from the clutches of the Uruk-hai. The Uruk growled in irritation then casually reached over and knocked Sam senseless with his massive fist. Grunting in satisfaction, the Uruk lifted Sam's bound hands over his head and trotted out of the clearing, the unconscious hobbit bouncing unnoticed on the Uruk's broad back. 


	2. Gone Missing

Author's Note: Thanks guys for the warm welcome! Maybe I should have written something sooner! Not sure exactly how this one is going to turn out, but rest assured, it will have an ending! Hope you continue to enjoy it.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Bilbo had stayed on into the evening with Frodo, both of them enjoying the unaccustomed privacy. As close as Frodo was to his dear friend and gardener, it was nice to have some time without Sam underfoot! Bilbo and Frodo ate dinner together and then Frodo, tired from the long visit, fell asleep soon afterwards. Bilbo tucked him, looked down fondly at his beloved nephew with a warm smile, and continued on to his own bed.  
  
The next morning, Frodo was awakened by an insistent knocking at his door. "Sam!" he called out sleepily, "There's someone at the door!" The knocking stopped for a moment and then resumed. "Sam!" called Frodo more loudly, "There's someone at the door!" Still Sam did not reply. With a sigh of frustration, Frodo pushed himself up onto his elbow and called out, "Come in!"  
  
The door opened a crack and Merry's head appeared. "Frodo?" he called hesitantly.  
  
"Come on in, Merry!" repeated Frodo. He was sitting up now and looking around for Sam. It was not like Sam to ignore someone knocking at the door. Merry and Pippin came in, also peering about.  
  
"Where's Sam?" asked Pippin, "I don't think we've ever come to visit you without him on guard! He's a regular watchdog!"  
  
Frodo smiled. The gardener's faithful attention to Frodo was legendary. "He must still be in bed! Merry, go wake the sluggard up!"  
  
Merry gave Frodo a mock salute and headed over to the small alcove where Sam usually slept. "Oi! Sam! Come on you lazybones, time to rise and shine!" Merry stopped in confusion. He stared down at Sam's neatly made bed. A small apple sat in the center, exactly where Sam had tossed it the day before. Merry picked it and frowned at it as he returned to Frodo's room.  
  
"What's the matter?" asked Pippin, watching his cousin, "Where's Sam?"  
  
Merry looked up, still frowning. "He's not there," he replied slowly. "And what's more, his bed hasn't been slept in. This is the same apple I gave him yesterday. It was on his bed, right where he left it."  
  
Frodo stared at Merry beginning to feel alarmed. This was so unlike Sam. Frodo couldn't imagine what could possibly keep Sam away this long unless. could his dear friend be injured somewhere? "We must find Gandalf," said Frodo quickly, "Sam wouldn't stay out all night unless something had happened to him. Gandalf will know what to do!"  
  
"I will know what to do about what ?" A deep, somewhat amused voice sounded from just beyond the open door. As they watched, the tall wizard came strolling into the room, his pipe in hand. "I will know what to do about what?" he repeated, his smile starting to fade as he observed the worried expressions on the hobbits' faces.  
  
"Sam seems to have gone missing," replied Frodo, his face creased with worry. "He went off yesterday afternoon when Bilbo came to visit and hasn't been seen since. You know that isn't like Sam. It was hard enough to get him to agree to take an hour off. He certainly wouldn't be gone all night unless something had happened!" Frodo was beginning to feel frantic. He just knew something awful had befallen Sam.  
  
Gandalf frowned. Frodo was right. Sam was nothing if not steadfastly devoted to Frodo. Even the elves had noticed that Sam rarely left his master's side. It disturbed Gandalf as much as the hobbits that Sam had been missing for so long. He turned back to Frodo, "Do you know where he might have gone?"  
  
Frodo was twisting the bedclothes fretfully, "The gardens. Merry told him about the beautiful gardens and I told him to go see them while Bilbo was here. He wasn't keen to go. Oh, I shouldn't have made him!" He buried his anguished face in his hands.  
  
Gandalf laid his hand on Frodo's trembling shoulder. "It will be all right, Frodo." He reassured him gently. "Sam might have just gotten lost. The gardens of Rivendell are quite extensive, you know. There is nothing in Rivendell that can harm him! I will go find Aragorn and see if he can't track down our elusive gardener!" With continued reassurances to the anxious hobbits, Gandalf swept out of the room, heading towards Lord Elrond's chambers. However, Sam's disappearance worried Gandalf far more than he let on to Frodo and the others  
  
Gandalf hurried towards Lord Elrond's quarters. He had seen Aragorn heading that way just a short time earlier. Elrond had plans to send out scouts to the surrounding lands and Gandalf knew that Aragorn would be one of them. Gandalf could hear voices as he approached the door. He stopped and then knocked. The door opened swiftly and Gandalf found himself face to face with the elf, Legolas. "Excuse me, Lord Elrond," said Gandalf politely looking past Legolas, "But we seem to have a small problem that I am hoping Aragorn can help me with. It appears we have misplaced one of our hobbits!" Elrond and the others stared at Gandalf in surprise as he continued into the room.  
  
"Exactly which hobbit have you misplaced?" asked Lord Elrond lifting one quizzical eyebrow.  
  
"Samwise Gamgee has not been seen since yesterday afternoon," replied Gandalf gravely. "As you know, Sam is the most loyal and devoted of servants, and for him to be gone from Frodo's side for any length of time is most unusual. I cannot imagine where he has gone off to, but I am concerned for his safety."  
  
A tall elf standing in the corner of the room now came forward. "Was he a rather stout hobbit with light brown hair?" he asked Gandalf. Gandalf nodded. "Well then," continued the elf, "I believe I spoke with him just after midday. He was looking for the gardens. I pointed out the way."  
  
"So," began Elrond slowly, "Master Gamgee was last seen just after midday yesterday and was headed towards the gardens. That should help narrow our search."  
  
"I was hoping that perhaps Aragorn could take some time and see if he could follow Sam's tracks." Said Gandalf, turning to the Ranger. "He cannot have gone far. I am worried that perhaps he has injured himself in someway and is unable to return."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "If we know that he started out on the path, it should not be too hard to follow him. Hobbits leave a most distinctive track! As you say, I cannot imagine that he has gone very far. It is more likely he simply got himself lost. Let us hope that he is well!"  
  
"I would be happy to accompany you, Aragorn," said Legolas. Aragorn readily agreed, glad of the company.  
  
"I will return to Frodo and the others and let them know that you are searching for their missing companion." Gandalf sighed. "I know they will be relieved to hear that a search has begun." As Gandalf headed back towards Frodo's room, Aragorn and Legolas turned towards the garden path. 


	3. Saruman

Author's Note: I have to leave town for a few days, so I thought I would post this before I left. It will still be awhile before the next update, though. Sorry!  
  
I'd like to thank everybody for taking the time to review! It's just like Old Home Week with all the old familiar people! Great to see you all - Minty, Kay, Samwise the Brave, Aemilia Rose, Amrun, Bookworm2000, and Irish Flying Fish - Welcome!  
  
OK, I will confess that Sam always suffers in my stories (I'm just into angst I guess and poor Sam has to suffer the brunt of my obsession). I guess you all know that by now, but just to warn you, his is not a happy lot! (  
  
Chapter 3 Saruman  
  
The Uruk-hai ran through the forest, his destination clearly fixed in his mind. His orders were to capture one of the halflings and send him back to Orthanc. It was Saruman's hope that the hobbit delivered to him would be the ring-bearer, but the wizard knew that was unlikely. Saruman was under no delusion that Gandalf would allow the ring-bearer to wander freely about without protection, especially now that the Gray wizard knew of Saruman's plans. However, Saruman did hope that perhaps one of Frodo's companions would become careless and the wizard had stationed several of his prized Uruk-hai around Rivendell in case such an opportunity arose. Sam had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and now, he was on his way Isengard.  
  
The Uruk continued to run tirelessly for several miles until he finally reached the edge of a jagged cliff. He stopped, threw back his head and gave a harsh, reverberating roar. He then stood waiting expectantly. A few moments later an answering scream was heard from overhead and a huge, black condor came soaring into view. The bird screamed again as it spotted the waiting Uruk, then swooped down to receive the small bundle the warrior held up. With Sam firmly clutched in its monstrous talons, the giant bird wheeled around and disappeared into the clouds. The Uruk watched for a moment, then turned and disappeared back into the forest.  
  
The bird soared effortless through the dense bank of clouds, using it to mask it movements. The inky condor barely noticed the weight of the small creature it carried and flew at full speed southward towards the Gap of Rohan and Isengard. The great bird flew for hours, never resting, never deviating in it's path. It knew its master was waiting. Many hours later, it finally spied the spires of the mighty fortress, Orthanc, in the distance. With a scream of triumph, it began it's descent, the unconscious hobbit still firmly clenched in its encircling talons. As it approached the uppermost reaches of the tower, the condor saw another orc patiently waiting, and slowly the bird circled downwards towards it. The orc reached up and awkwardly caught the bundle released by the bird. It's errand completed for the moment, the bird, turned and headed into the Misty Mountains to hunt. It would return when called.  
  
The small orc, carried Sam through a doorway barely indistinguishable from the onyx black wall and descended downwards along a steep, spiraling stairway. Finally, he stopped in front of a tall, elaborately carved door. Reaching up, the orc knocked on the door until a deep voice inside bade him enter. The huge door slowly swung inwards revealing a room of shining black. Seated upon a dais was Saruman the White. His black eyes glittered eagerly as he spied the figure in the orcs arms. "At last!" whispered the wizard as he stood and approached the orc. Saruman studied the bruised and bloody face of the hobbit before him. He doubted this was the ring-bearer, but he must be certain. He looked at the orc. "Search him." Saruman commanded, "Search him thoroughly and give to me anything you find."  
  
The orc searched Sam roughly but other than a pocket-knife, a length of string, and some nuts, he found nothing. The orc looked up at his master apprehensively. "This is all he was carrying, my Lord." cringed the orc, holding up Sam's meager possessions.  
  
Saruman nodded, as if he had expected nothing more. "So, this is not the ring-bearer," he said aloud, "Well, no matter. I still have my uses for him. Obviously this hobbit is close to the ring-bearer or he would not have accompanied Frodo Baggins on this quest." He looked back at the orc. "Take him to the dungeons and hold him there until he wakes. Then bring him to me. We do not have much time." The orc nodded, picked up Sam in his arms and scurried from the room. Saruman watched thoughtfully, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. If all went well, he thought, then one of Gandalf's pet halflings could very well lead to the downfall of Middle Earth. What a grand joke that would be!  
  
Sam let out a low moan as he slowly came back to himself. His head was pounding and his entire body ached. He was also very cold and shivering. He grudgingly opened his eyes, trying to see where he was. He felt very confused. He was in a dark, stone cell, the rough floor pushing against his face. Gingerly, he sat up, holding his aching head. He was surprised to find his hands bound in front of him. The last thing he could remember was looking at the flowers in Rivendell. Yes, that was right. He had crossed a little river and had been in a forest clearing. Something happened there. He frowned, trying to remember. The monster! The memory of the fiendish creature bearing down on him in the clearing hit him so hard, he gasped. It must have taken him someplace away from the elves, but where? And what would happen to him now?  
  
He carefully stood and began to examine his quarters more closely. There wasn't much to see. A thick, iron door with a grill in its center and a small flap at the bottom took up much of one wall. The rest of the cell's walls were bare stone, as was the floor. The cell was empty save for one very frightened hobbit. In addition to being cold, Sam suddenly realized how parched and hungry he was. He wondered when was the last time he had eaten. He had no idea how much time had passed since the monster had taken him. The pounding in his head was making him queasy so he sat back down and leaned his aching body against the wall. There was nothing he could do now but wait.  
  
He had lost all sense of time when the loud clang of a bold being pulled startled Sam out a restless doze. His head snapped up and he watched fearfully as the door swung open and the flickering light from a torch momentarily blinded him. "Come along, rat," snarled the large orc that filled the doorway. It reached down and dragged Sam roughly to his feet. "The Master requests your presence!" A smaller orc, bearing the torch, laughed harshly. Sam felt a cold chill run down his back. The larger orc gave him a push and Sam stumbled down the corridor toward another iron- bound door, the small orc in front, the large one behind. They had no fear that he would escape, but the orcs were taking no chances.  
  
Sam was led through the door and up the winding stairway. His short legs quickly grew so heavy from the unaccustomed exertion that he wasn't sure how much longer he could continue. Whenever he staggered or fell, the orc behind would snarl menacingly and hoist Sam back onto his feet, forcing him onward. They passed many doorways on their journey up from the dungeons, but the orcs passed them by without a second look. Finally, they came to one more elaborately carved than rest. It was the same Sam had passed through before, although he did not know this. The door opened and the orcs entered, shoving their prisoner before them.  
  
Sam stumbled and fell onto his hands and knees. The marble felt cold and lifeless beneath him. Slowly, Sam lifted his aching head and found himself meeting the cold, black eyes of a tall man clothed all in shimmering white seated upon a throne perched high on the upper level of an imposing dais. The man reminded Sam of Gandalf and the hobbit couldn't help but wonder if he were in the presence of another of the Istari. He knew there were others, but Gandalf was the only one he had ever met. The man's unrelenting stare seemed to freeze the terrified hobbit to the spot. Sam wasn't sure he could have moved even if he had wanted to. All he could do was stare into those impenetrable eyes. Finally, the man broke his gaze and gracefully stood up. Sam's eyes continued to follow the wizard as he slowly got to his own feet.  
  
When the man was a few feet from Sam, he stopped, peering down at the small figure before him. "Do you know who I am, halfling?" the man demanded quietly, Sam gulped nervously, his mouth dry, and shook his head slowly. The man smiled contemptuously. "I thought not. I do not imagine Gandalf felt it necessary to tell you about me as yet." The man pulled himself up, his tall figure becoming more imposing than ever. "I am Saruman," he announced, his booming voice ringing in Sam's ears. "Do you know me now?"  
  
Sam's mind went blank as he frantically searched for any memories he had of this name. Suddenly, he seemed to remember Gandalf mentioning a Saruman the White, the head of his order. He frowned in thought. Gandalf had left Frodo and Sam to meet with this head and Sam had the impression that something had gone wrong and that was why Gandalf had not met them at Bree. It also occurred to the hobbit that if this Saruman had monsters in his employ, he was not a friend. Sam looked up, his lips pressed tightly together, "I have heard of you." he said tightly. "You are the head of Gandalf's Order."  
  
Saruman's eyebrows rose in slight surprise. "So, you do know something of me, But not the entire story, I think." he mused. He continued to regard the hobbit thoughtfully. "You are not the ring-bearer." he said suddenly.  
  
Sam blinked in surprise. This was not what he expected to hear. It was obvious that this wizard knew something of what had been going on since he and Frodo left Hobbiton, but Sam was determined not to tell him any more. "Nooo," replied Sam slowly continuing to watch Saruman warily.  
  
"No, you are not," agreed Saruman pleasantly, "But, you are one of his trusted companions, sent to accompany him from the Shire to Rivendell." Sam said nothing. "You do not need to confirm this," continued Saruman dismissively. "I had hoped to capture the ring-bearer, Frodo Baggins," Sam winced at hearing his master's name, "But you will prove almost as useful to me." Saruman began to slowly approach Sam, his glittering eyes boring into Sam's. "You will kill the ring-bearer," he hissed, "and bring to me the One Ring." 


	4. The Command

Author's Notes: I'm back from my trip, so thought I'd get this next chapter loaded before school really gets into full swing! Thanks again for all the reviews, they certainly are encouraging!  
  
Chapter 4 The Command  
  
"Look here, Legolas," smiled Aragorn. "One set of very distinct hobbit tracks!" Aragorn was squatting by the head of the path into the gardens. He pointed to a set of rather large footprints. "This should be easy enough to follow!" The two companions started walking slowly down the sunlit pathway. Aragorn pointed out the different places where Sam had stopped to look at various flowers and shrubs. The trail was easy to see and they followed it with little difficulty into the shadowy forest.  
  
Aragorn suddenly stopped and looked more closely at the tracks. They were now near the river that made up the border of Rivendell. "It looks as if Sam turned off here towards the river," he said thoughtfully. He stood up and gazed across the river observing the colorful flowers in the clearing. "It appears he might have gone over there to look at those flowers. A true gardener, our Sam!"  
  
Legolas looked troubled. "I would have been happier had he remained on this side of the river where it is protected."  
  
Aragorn nodded his agreement and began to make his way through the dense layer of briars that bordered either side of the stream. He quickly picked up Sam's trail on the other side and followed it into the glen. He stopped short staring intently at the tracks before him. He looked around quickly, his keen eyes noting the appearance of another set of tracks. Imprints of large feet stood out clearly in the damp and trampled herbage. Aragorn looked up at Legolas in alarm. "An orc!" he cried softly.  
  
Legolas stared back at him before peering around the surrounding forest. "I do not feel its presence," he murmured thoughtfully, "It is not here now. What would an orc be doing this close to Rivendell?"  
  
Aragorn continued to study the ground before him, becoming more worried with each sign. These footprints look uncommonly large for an orc," he commented, perplexed . "And look," the ranger continued grimly, pointing to the ground, "You can see here where the orc captured Sam." The two companions examined the crushed flowers where Sam had fallen. The footprints of the large orc continued into the forest.  
  
"Do you think he is taking Sam to Sauron?" asked Legolas frowning as he peered into the forest around them, searching for any further signs of orc presence.  
  
"It is possible," Aragorn replied slowly, getting to his feet. "It is also possible he is taking Sam to Saruman. We do not know under whose power this creature works. However, we may still be able to catch them. Come on!" Without another word, they turned as one and ran into the forest, following the Uruk's tracks that they hoped would lead them to Sam.  
  
Sam stared in horror at the wizard bearing down at him. Kill Mister Frodo!? Him!? It wasn't possible, unbearable even to consider, but this Saruman was a powerful wizard wasn't he? Wizards could make people do things they would normally never do. Sam's entire body felt numb, as if it didn't belong to him at all. He was unconsciously backing away from the terrifying figure coming ever nearer. "Yes," breathed Saruman, his face now contorted in a hideous leer, "You will be in my power. When the time is right, you will kill Frodo Baggins, take the Ring, and bring it here to me. Gandalf thinks he can hide it from me, but he is sadly mistaken! The power of the One Ring will be mine!"  
  
Suddenly, the wizard lunged forward and seized Sam's already aching head in his powerful hands, his eyes only inches away from those of his victim. Sam could feel the wizard's mind attempting to enter his own and knowing that if he allowed this to happen, he would kill his beloved master and perhaps bring about the downfall of all Middle Earth! Sam fought for all he was worth. His love of Frodo and the Shire helped strengthen him, but he was only a small hobbit. He was not a powerful Istari and he was doomed to failure. When the wizard finally broke through Sam's stouthearted, yet futile efforts to fight off Saruman's attack, the hobbit's desperate screams of pain and horror echoed throughout the black hallways of Orthanc. Even the orcs, spawn of evil themselves, felt a cold chill upon hearing the hobbit's wrenching cries of agony as if his very soul was being ripped from his heart.  
  
The two orcs watched in eager fascination as Saruman stood motionless over the halfling, his eyes never blinking. Finally, with a gasp, Saruman abruptly released the hobbit and stumbled back a few steps. He reached up, wiping the fine beads of perspiration glistening on his brow. Sam lay like a broken doll on the cold, black marble. His eyes were bruises in his ashen face. Saruman regarded Sam with a mixture of irritation and grudging respect. He had hardly expected such strong resistance from a lowly halfling. Maybe there was more to these creatures than met the eye.  
  
"Master?" Saruman turned to the cringing orc. "Is it dead?"  
  
"No." replied Saruman feeling surprisingly weary. "I have put the Command into his mind. When the time is right, he will kill Frodo Baggins and bring me the Ring of Power." With his foot, Saruman carelessly rolled Sam onto his back . "I suspect the halfling will continue to fight the Command in his subconscious." He gave a small, scornful laugh. "I fear he will suffer some rather severe headaches!" He then turned and strode over to the throne. He reached down and lifted a shining dagger from behind the seat. The dagger was perhaps a foot long, more of short sword really, the golden hilt molded into an elaborate figure of a dragon with glittering ruby eyes. The blade was thin and razor sharp. Saruman studied it gravely.  
  
"Gandalf himself gave me this blade many, many years ago," he reflected as he slowly made his way towards the unconscious hobbit. "It was forged by the finest Numenorean craftsmen. Gandalf thought I would find it useful." He laughed mirthlessly. "He had no idea just how useful!" He knelt down beside the prone hobbit and ripped open Sam's shirt, revealing his bare chest. Saruman looked up at the two orcs standing a short distance away. "Come here," he ordered, "And hold him steady." The two orcs glanced at each other then did as their master bid.  
  
"Gandalf is no fool," Saruman remarked as he examined the hobbit before him. "I am certain he has some of his best trackers chasing Gorek right now. If Gorek simply abandons this hobbit unharmed, Gandalf may suspect something is amiss. I am going to give Gorek a reason to leave this creature for Gandalf to find." With that, Saruman carefully inserted the tip of the blade into Sam's chest and with the image of the blade in his mind's eye, he was able to push it through Sam's body, deftly maneuvering it away from all the vital organs. When he felt the tip connect with the floor he stopped and opened his eyes, surveying his work. "I think that will do." he smiled coldly. "As long as we are careful not to jar the blade out of place, this halfling will have plenty of time to be rescued before he finally bleeds to death. An injured hobbit will also insure that Gorek's pursuers return immediately to Rivendell."  
  
Saruman leaned down and carefully lifted Sam into his arms. He didn't trust these orcs to treat Sam gently enough to prevent undue damage. Saruman led the way up to the pinnacle of Orthanc where the giant condor was circling, awaiting its burden. Saruman wrapped Sam in a small cloak and held him up for the bird to receive. The hobbit firmly held in its grasp, Saruman watched triumphantly as the bird wheeled away into the clouds covering the Misty Mountains. If all went well, soon Saruman would be the new ruler of all Middle Earth. 


	5. Lost and Found

Author's Note: OK guys, here is the update. I wasn't sure if I would have time to post it this quickly or not. The next one might take a bit longer, though!  
  
Irish Flying Fish: I do try to proofread as carefully as possible, but it always seems like later on I find some little thing I missed! Drives me nuts! As for your questions, well, I'm sure some will be answered in this chapter.  
  
Thanks again everyone for taking the time to review and comment!  
  
Chapter 5 Lost and Found  
  
Gorek, the Uruk-hai had been traveling without rest for a day and a half. It didn't matter to him. He could keep this up indefinitely. He carried a large rock with him. Saruman had warned him that elven trackers would notice a difference in his tracks after he sent off the hobbit and Gorek was to insure that his pursuers never suspected the hobbit had been out of his grasp. The burly Uruk was traveling along a ridge waiting for the return of the condor. All he had to do was keep ahead of the ones trailing him and then leave the hobbit for them to find when it was returned to him. It was daybreak on the morning of the third day when he heard the distant scream of the great condor. Gorek stopped and roared his response. He stood still and scanned the skies to the south. A short time later, the black bird came soaring into view. Gorek waited patiently as it approached him, finally hovering just above his head. Gorek threw his rock down into the ravine then reached up and took the bundle into his massive arms. With a flurry of feathers and another piercing scream, the condor took off.  
  
Gorek laid the bundle down onto the ground and carefully unwrapped it. As he expected, the hobbit lay unconscious, a dagger protruding from his chest. It was apparent the creature had lost a fair amount a blood, but it hadn't reached a dangerous level yet. Gorek knew his pursuers were no more than a couple of hours behind. His instructions had been to allow them to stay reasonably close. Now he knew why. He stared at the hobbit a few more moments, got to his feet and casually trotted off into the forest. His job was done.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn felt certain they were getting closer. Elrond had dispatched another elf to find them when they had not returned after a short time and Aragorn had sent him back with the news of what they had discovered. He and Legolas would continue to follow the orc and hopefully rescue Sam. It disturbed them both that this orc seemed to have no trouble traveling in daylight. Gandalf had mentioned to Aragorn that Saruman had been breeding a kind of "super orc". One able to travel in sunlight and far more powerful than the usual orc kind they had encountered in the past. Legolas showed little sign of weariness, but the unrelenting pace for two days was taking its toll on Aragorn. Although he was a Ranger, he was still human.  
  
It was nearing midday on the third day after Sam's capture. Aragorn knew they were no more than an hour or two behind their quarry. He realized that they were many leagues from Isengard, but if there were more of these Uruk-hai waiting for the one they trailed, they might never catch up with Sam. Aragorn was deep in these disturbing thoughts when Legolas suddenly grabbed his arm. "Aragorn!" he hissed, pulling Aragorn to a halt.  
  
Aragorn glanced first at his friend, then up the steep hill where the elf was pointing. They could see vultures circling the area above them. Aragorn looked at the ground at his feet, frowning. The tracks they were following led to a narrow path which wound towards the top of the ridge. He glanced again at his companion. "Come on!" he said anxiously. Together, the raced to the ridgetop, fearing what they might find. When they burst through the trees into the open space beside the cliff edge, they halted in alarm. "Sam!" gasped Aragorn, his eyes wide in horror.  
  
There, near the edge of the cliff, lay a small, bloodied figure, a blade rising from his chest, glinting in the bright sunlight. Aragorn stood there for only a moment, then scrambled to the side of the unconscious hobbit and falling to his knees beside him. "Oh, Sam!" whispered Aragorn mournfully staring at the hobbit's bruised and bloodied face, "We are too late!"  
  
"No!" cried Legolas eagerly, "Look! He still breathes!" Aragorn studied Sam more closely and realized Legolas was right. Although such a wound should have killed him, Sam was still alive!  
  
Knowing he must act quickly if he were to save Sam's life, Aragorn slowly and carefully pulled the blade from Sam's chest and covered the angry wound with a piece of cloth Legolas had torn from his shirt. Blood quickly soaked the fabric, but Aragorn knew he could be bleeding much more severely inside. Tearing off more cloth, he bound Sam's wounds as tightly as he could, then lifted the small body into his arms. "Come, Legolas!" he said urgently, "We must return him to Rivendell as quickly as possible!"  
  
Legolas and Aragorn sped through the woods, back towards Rivendell. Sam was weak and burning with fever, but still holding his own. Aragorn searched the woods for the athelas plant, using it to help fight off infection. The hobbit was badly dehydrated and had lost a lot of blood. Aragorn prayed he would still be alive when they reached the haven of the elves.  
  
Merry and Pippin had not left Frodo's side since the elf returned with word of Sam's capture by an orc. The hobbits were not quite sure what an orc was, other than it was highly dangerous and often a minion of the Dark Lord. Frodo fretted and worried so much about his friend, that Elrond forced him to take a calming potion so that he would not set his own recovery back. Pippin and Merry were equally concerned. They had almost lost Frodo to the demonic Ringwraiths on Weathertop, but they never would have dreamed there could be such danger here in Rivendell. Merry had been watching the elves around him and he could tell they were disturbed and angry that such a thing could happen this close to the Last Homely House.  
  
Sam had now been missing close to five days. Frodo stared out the doorway of his room, watching for any sign of Aragorn's return. He knew that if anyone could find Sam, it would be the Ranger. But would Sam still be alive? Frodo leaned his head wearily against the back of his couch. He couldn't stay in bed, but did consent to lay on the soft couch placed where he could watch. He closed his eyes and sighed. Impatience had been replaced by a cold, numbing fear. If anything had happened to Sam, Frodo was not sure he could ever forgive himself. As he lay there considering how he would tell the Gaffer if Sam didn't return, he was disturbed from his reverie by a distant shout. Frodo's eyes snapped open and his two friends hurried to the doorway.  
  
An elf was sprinting up the hill towards Elrond's chambers. The three hobbits saw Elrond, Gandalf and some others hurry out to meet him. After a brief conference, the elf sped back the way he had come, Elrond turned and disappeared inside and Gandalf hurried towards the waiting hobbits.  
  
"Have they found him?" cried Frodo anxiously as Gandalf entered the chamber, "Is he alright?"  
  
"Yes, they have found him," replied Gandalf grimly, "But he has been seriously wounded. Aragorn sent a messenger ahead so that we might prepare for Sam." He gripped Frodo's trembling shoulder. "Frodo, he may not live. He lost a good deal of blood and I do not know if the blade with which he was wounded contained poison. We must be prepared for the worst."  
  
Tears had formed in the eyes of each of the hobbits as they took in Gandalf's somber words. Even after Frodo's near brush, they still had difficulty in believing that any of them could truly be killed. "I must go help Elrond now," said Gandalf solemnly. "I will send word as soon as we know anything. Please wait here until I send for you." With that, the tall wizard swept from the room and strode back towards Elrond's chambers.  
  
The three hobbits waited fearfully until Pippin cried, "There they are!" Aragorn and Legolas could be seen racing up the hill along the garden path towards the buildings. Aragorn, his face grey with exhaustion, was holding Sam's limp body in his arms. He glance up towards Frodo's room and met the hobbit's anxious eyes with his own, but never faltered in his pace. Frodo watched as his friends disappeared inside.  
  
Merry placed his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "He'll be alright, Frodo," he said as much to reassure himself as his cousin. "Sam's tough. You'll see!" Frodo, unable to speak, simply nodded. Pippin moved closer to the other two, trying to gain some comfort from his two remaining friends. 


	6. Among Friends

Author's Note: Again, I would like to give heartfelt thanks to all of you who took the time to leave reviews. They mean a lot to me!  
  
Chapter 6 Among Friends  
  
Breathing hard, Aragorn laid Sam's lifeless body on a bed in an antechamber adjacent to Elrond's rooms. The tall elven lord approached Sam and quickly removed the injured hobbit's shirt to reveal his bloodied chest. Frowning, Elrond examined the wound closely as well as Sam's injured head while the others watched anxiously.. Finally, Elrond looked up and gave a faint smile. "He has indeed lost a lot of blood," he announced, "And although he is feverish, I see no signs of poison and I believe that no vital organs have been seriously damaged. I am concerned about the severity of his head wound, but I believe our hobbit friend will recover, given the proper care and rest."  
  
Aragorn slumped into a chair, elated but overcome with fatigue. "I was so afraid he was dead when we first came upon him," he said wearily. "Then, I worried he would die before we could reach Rivendell."  
  
"What happened exactly?" asked Gandalf as he helped Elrond clean and dress Sam's wounds.  
  
"We found his tracks easily enough," began Aragorn sitting up, absently brushing the hair from his face, "And followed them into the forest where he crossed the river to look at some flowers" Gandalf chuckled at this, looking down fondly at Sam's pale face. "However, in the clearing, we also found unusually large orc prints. It was obvious he had taken Sam. We followed." He frowned in thought. "It was odd though. The orc had no trouble moving in daylight. That is what made it so hard for us to catch up with him. He never seemed to stop."  
  
Gandalf nodded slowly. "Uruk-hai." he said quietly. Aragorn and Legolas looked questioningly at him. "The goblin-men that Saruman has created. They are more powerful than any orc, able to move in daylight, resistant to pain and fatigue. They are the ultimate fighting machine. Saruman must have placed some of them in this area in hopes of capturing Frodo and the Ring."  
  
Legolas brought forth the unusual dagger they had pulled from Sam's chest. "This was the blade the creature used on Samwise," he said, handing the blade to Gandalf.  
  
The wizard's eyes widened in surprise. "I gave this blade to Saruman myself, a long time ago!" he exclaimed, examining it in wonder. Then his face darkened. "Obviously, it was put there as a sign to me. Mocking me and my attempts to prevent him from acquiring the Ring of Power." He looked down again at Sam. "Poor Sam had to pay the price. We must be very careful from now on and keep a more watchful eye on our hobbit friends. Two have almost been killed thus far. I would like to see them all remain alive awhile longer!"  
  
As soon as Elrond and the another elf skilled in the arts of healing finished treating Sam, Gandalf departed for Frodo's rooms to give the anxious hobbits the news. "So he will be all right?" Frodo asked anxiously for the third or fourth time, "You are sure?" Merry and Pippin stared at the wizard avidly.  
  
"Yes, yes, my dear Frodo!" Gandalf laughed, shaking his head in mock dismay. "You will drive me mad with your constant questions! Come, I shall take you now to see him and perhaps then you will give me some peace!"  
  
Although Frodo was still not fully recovered himself, it was inconceivable that Gandalf could have prevented him from going to Sam. So, the three hobbits quickly followed the wizard to the chamber where Sam lay, still as death. Frodo cried out in alarm as he gazed at Sam's battered face. The gardener was very pale and drawn.  
  
"Oh Sam!" he whispered, taking his friend's hand into his own. "I am so sorry I brought you with me on this journey! You should be safe at home, tending the gardens of Bag End!" Tears were in his eyes as guilt washed over him.  
  
"It was not your fault, Frodo Baggins," scolded Elrond gently, placing an encouraging hand on Frodo's shoulder. "This is the work of the Enemy. In these dark days, no place is entirely safe. Samwise chose to remain at your side. You are very dear to him."  
  
Frodo nodded reluctantly, still wishing it had not been necessary to bring his friend into such danger. Frodo gently brushed the wet curls away from Sam's hot forehead. He was determined to remain by his side until Sam woke.  
  
Sam remained unconscious for two full days. On the morning of the third, he heard a voice, faint as if from a great distance, calling his name. "Sam!" he heard, "Come on, Sam! Wake up! Sam!" The voice wouldn't stop, wouldn't go away. He groaned softly as his eyes fluttered open. He looked up in confusion. Where was he? "Sam?" he turned his head slightly and there was Frodo staring down at him, a huge relieved grin spreading across his pale features. "Sam! Do you know who I am?"  
  
"Frodo?" Sam's voice was raspy with disuse. "Master Frodo? Is something wrong?" Suddenly convinced he was needed, Sam struggled to sit up, but was pulled back abruptly by the sharp pains in his chest and head. He collapsed back down onto the pillows with a shocked gasp.  
  
"You must remain quiet, Master Gamgee," said a deep voice from behind him. Lord Elrond appeared a moment later, viewing his patient gravely. "You have had a very close call, and it is important that you rest."  
  
Sam frowned in confusion. It had taken him another moment before he realized he was not in his own bed or even Frodo's room. "What happened?" he whispered hesitantly, looking around in bewilderment at his friend and master.  
  
"What is the last thing you remember, Samwise?" asked Elrond as he stood beside Frodo.  
  
Sam closed his eyes, trying to think back. "Well," he said slowly, "I seem to remember going to look at the gardens." He thought some more. It was making his head ache. "And. I remember.. A clearing. Yes, that's right! There was a clearing across a river and it had beautiful red and gold flowers. I crossed the river to look at them, but as I was about to leave, I saw this.this monster! I didn't know what it was! But it was huge and ugly and it grabbed me when I tried to run. It was tyin' up my hands and." he frowned, trying hard to recall what came next. "That's all I remember. Next thing I know, I'm right here!"  
  
"You remember nothing of the days the Uruk-hai carried you through the woods or when it tried to kill you?" Sam stared at Elrond in horror, the meaning of his words sinking in. He gingerly touched the bandages encircling his chest.  
  
"It. it tried to kill me?" he gasped in wonder.  
  
"Yes!" Frodo leaned forward, looking distressed. "It stabbed you right through the chest, Sam! It just missed your heart! You should have been killed! Aragorn and an elf by the name of Legolas followed you for almost three days before they found you." Sam blinked, completely bewildered. How could all of this have happened and him having no memory of it?  
  
Elrond laid a reassuring hand on Sam's arm. "Have no fear, Master Gamgee," he smiled. "Aragorn and Legolas were able to get you here in time and you should make a full recovery. If you rest!" He cast an accusing eye on Frodo, who blushed, but grinned apologetically.  
  
"I'll make sure he gets plenty of rest!" he assured the elf as Elrond turned to leave. Sam continued to look dismayed. He didn't like this one bit. How could he not remember any of this? Frodo gazed at his friend in concern. "It's all right, Sam" he said, "Elrond said your head injury probably would have affected your memory. You've been unconscious for the two days you've been back. You probably were unconscious the entire time that Uruk-hai or whatever Gandalf called it, had you. I don't think it's anything you would want to remember!"  
  
Sam nodded slowly. Frodo was probably right, but still, something bothered him. Although he couldn't remember anything, he had the odd feeling that perhaps he hadn't been insensible the entire time. He felt as if he were missing something, some important piece to the puzzle. However, he was too weary to spend much time thinking about it, and soon he had drifted off into a normal, restful sleep. 


	7. The Enemy Within

Chapter 8 The Enemy Within  
  
Sam's recovery went well and within a couple of weeks, he was up and around. Although weak and prone to tiring easily, he was feeling more like his old self every day. Except for the headaches. They came and went unexpectedly and sometimes were so fierce, he thought his head would explode. He didn't want to worry anyone. He noticed, however, that they seemed most intense when he was alone with Frodo. This puzzled him greatly, but still he said nothing. He hoped they would simply go away eventually.  
  
He was also concerned by the blank periods of time he was experiencing. On several occasions, he would find himself someplace with no recollection of how he got there. The most disturbing episode was when he awoke late one night to find himself hovering over a sleeping Frodo, a pillow clenched in his hands. He was then assaulted by a blinding headache so intense, he almost collapsed right then and there. He managed to stagger from the room before he was violently ill. Again, he feared to mention this to anyone. He couldn't chance being left behind when the Fellowship departed for Mordor and he knew headaches and blackouts would probably be considered adequate reasons to keep him in Rivendell.  
  
The days passed quickly with preparations for the Fellowship's departure . Sam grew stronger every day and as the day of departure approached, he was immensely relieved when Elrond proclaimed him fit to travel with Frodo and the others. Sam was still suffering from the headaches, but the blackouts had become less frequent, which eased his mind somewhat. He still believed it was better not to mention any of this, although he did notice Frodo, Merry and Pippin sometimes looking at him strangely. Well, if they suspected something, they didn't mention it.  
  
The day of departure finally arrived. Sam was both excited and apprehensive about the journey. He didn't think much of them heading into black lands and fiery mountains, but he was determined to remain at Frodo's side at all costs. He periodically stole curious glances at their new companions. Gandalf and Aragorn he was well acquainted with. Frodo told him that the elf, Legolas, had been with Aragorn when he found Sam on the ridge. Sam was somewhat intimidated by him, although the elf was always pleasant to him. He wasn't too sure about the other man, Boromir. He was of noble blood, Sam knew, but he seemed uncommonly interested in the Ring. This did not sit well with the suspicious hobbit, who feared for his master's safety. The other newcomer, Gimli the dwarf, was a boisterous, loud spoken fellow, and as he was closer the hobbit's size, Sam felt somewhat more comfortable around him.  
  
The Company headed south, hoping to pass through the Redhorn Gate and into the Dimrill Dale and thus cross the Misty Mountains. As the journey progressed, Sam found his headaches were becoming less frequent, although he sometimes felt a strange lassitude come over him and his movements seemed automatic, almost as if they were barely under his control. It was as they began the steep climb up Caradhras that the weather changed for the worse. Fierce biting winds and heavy snow descended upon them, making it almost impossible to see and progress slow. The hobbits trailed behind the larger folk, allowing them to break a passage for them through the drifts. Sam had never felt such bone-chilling cold in his entire life. Frost covered his face and he found himself becoming drowsy and gradually less aware of his surroundings. Each step seemed more difficult than the last. Frodo was beside him, looking just as cold and miserable. Pippin and Merry were a little ways ahead, mindlessly plodding forward. It was doubtful whether any of the hobbits could continue much longer under these grueling conditions.  
  
Suddenly, Sam thought he heard someone yell stop. Freezing in place, he looked up startled, but was even more puzzled by the fact that no one else seemed to have heard the command. Sam gradually became aware of a low, rumbling sound that could just be heard over the shrieking wind. Looking up in alarm, he saw to his horror, the entire side of the mountain ahead of them seemed to be coming down! Rocks and a rushing wall of snow came roaring down the hill, burying everything it its path. Sam cried out as he saw Merry and Pippin throw themselves against the wall of the mountain and disappear beneath the onslaught. Sam grabbed Frodo's arm and hauled him out of the snow's lethal path. They lay huddled by Bill the pony as they waited for the avalanche to end.  
  
But, it was as he pulled on his master's arm that something strange happened. Sam felt that familiar, but terrifying sensation as he head exploded in blinding pain. This time, he felt a moment of intense despair, then everything went black  
  
"Sam!" cried Frodo frantically as he regained his feet. He was covered with snow and he felt colder than ever, although not entirely because of the weather. He was staring at the place where he had last seen his cousins. "Hurry Sam! We must dig them out!" Frodo started to surge ahead through the monstrous drift before him when he felt an iron grip on his arm Whirling about in confusion, Frodo found himself staring into the face of a stranger. Frodo blinked, trying to clear his vision in the swirling snow.. It was Sam's face alright, but those cold, black glittering eyes were those of a stranger. Frodo felt a thrill of fear race up his spine. "Sam?" he whispered fearfully.  
  
The eyes just stared at him, unblinking. Suddenly, Sam burst into action grabbing Frodo about the neck, attempting to strangle him. Frodo was caught completely by surprise. He reached up trying to break Sam's hold. The only thing saving him were his many layers of clothing. Sam was finding it hard to get a good grip on Frodo's throat. Frodo slipped in the deep snow and Sam lost his tenuous hold. Desperately Frodo attempted to crawl away, but in a moment, Sam had thrown himself on top of him. Sam caught hold of the back of Frodo's cloak and pulled it tight across Frodo's throat, once again cutting off his air. Frantically, Frodo fumbled with the clasp, his frozen fingers refusing to cooperate. As darkness began to gather at the edges of his vision, Frodo finally pulled the clasp free and his cloak came loose. Unbalanced, Sam flew backwards, disappearing into a drift behind them. Gasping for breath, Frodo managed to regain his feet and staggered a few steps.  
  
With a roar of frustration, Sam struggled to his feet and again threw himself at his master. Frodo wheeled around, panting, attempting to ward off this new attack, but he was second too late. Sam, using his superior weight and momentum, flung Frodo to the ground, pinning him. Seizing a nearby rock, he raised it above his head, ready to bring it down. "Sam!" cried Frodo desperately, "Sam! No! Please! It's me, Frodo!" For just a moment, there was a change in Sam's eyes. The ominous glitter disappeared, and they were Sam's once more. Looking down at his friend, Sam's face contorted into a mask of grief and horror, but just for a moment. The Ring was lying visible on Frodo's heaving chest and as Sam spied it, a tremor passed through his body, and the glittering eyes returned. Without a sound, he brought the rock down firmly on Frodo's head. Frodo cried out in pain, then was silent. Sam raised the rock a second time, but hesitated, looked at Frodo, then slowly opened his shaking hand, allowing the rock to tumble silently into the snow beside him.  
  
Sam was breathing hard and closed his eyes, frowning. Another tremor ran through his body. A moment later, his eyes snapped open, dark and glittering once more, all expression gone from his face. He stared at Frodo's bloodied face and then down at the Ring on its shimmering silver chain. After a moment's hesitation, he reached over and slipped the chain over Frodo's head then draped it over his own, the Ring icy cold against his chest.  
  
Sam stood up, seemingly oblivious to wailing wind and snow. He reached down and grabbed Frodo by the arm and began pulling towards the edge of the cliff, blood staining the snow as they went. Again, Sam hesitated for the briefest of moments, then grunting with the effort, pushed Frodo over. Impassively, he watched as Frodo disappear in a cloud of snow.  
  
"NOOOO!" An anguished scream cut through the wind, but Sam was deaf to its pain. Merry had just broken a small opening through the mountain of snow and watched in horrified disbelief as Samwise Gamgee pushed Frodo into the void. "SAM!" He cried again. Slowly, Sam turned and gazed at the Merry's despairing face. Merry felt his blood run cold as he stared at those icy, glittering eyes, so unlike Sam's warm ones. Then, still looking into Merry's eyes, Sam gave a small smirk, placed the Ring on his finger and disappeared from sight. Only his tracks, leading back down the mountain trail, gave any indication of his passing.  
  
Desperately, Merry continued to dig through the snow and rock, trying to create an opening through which he and Pippin could escape. Fortunately, the slight overhang of the mountain had diverted the worst of the avalanche away from them. When it was over, they had found themselves entombed in snow and rock, but unharmed. Merry could not believe what he had just seen and all he could think about was reaching Frodo and hope he wasn't too late.  
  
"What's happened!?" cried Pippin anxiously as he too dug at the packed snow. Merry was wide eyed with panic and clawing at the snow as if his very life depended on it.. Merry stopped for a moment, resting his head against the snow before him, gasping for breath.. Tears were running down his face and Pippin stared at him in alarm. "What's happened?" Pippin repeated even more anxiously, speaking barely above a whisper. Merry turned to him, his face bleak., the tears beginning to freeze. He wasn't sure he could get the words out.  
  
"Sam's killed Frodo!" 


	8. Who's to Blame?

Author's Note: Thought I'd better get this next update posted! Hated to leave everyone is such a tizzy (OK, well, not really!) As always, your reviews and comments are much appreciated and definitely make my day!  
  
Chapter 8 Who's to Blame?  
  
After having pushed his beloved master over the edge of the cliff, Sam turned and silently made his way down the mountain. All he could think of was getting to Isengard. No other thought entered his mind as Saruman controlled him from afar. The trek back down the mountain path was easier than the one going up. It seemed once Sam was out of sight of the avalanche, the snow and wind almost magically disappeared. Sam had unconsciously slipped the Ring onto his finger and disappeared insuring that no one could follow his movements. He didn't notice the fiery eye observing him or the way the world now seemed faded and draped in mist. He simply headed back down the trail retracing his earlier journey with the Fellowship. Saruman had ordered Gorek and a few other of his most trusted Uruks to follow the companions as they made their way towards Mordor, but made it clear they were never to get close enough that they could be spotted. If all went as planned, the halfling would come to them.  
  
Once out of the snow and far enough away from the others that it was unlikely they could spot him, Sam removed the Ring and began to run. He gave no thought to this. His mind was fixed on a single purpose: get to Isengard as quickly as possible. He ran for miles, far beyond the distance he normally would have been able to achieve. Saruman's Command kept him moving. Then, as he was crossing a rocky ridge along the edge of a steep ravine, he slipped and fell, tumbling in a flurry of rocks and gravel, down to the bottom. There, as he finally rolled to a stop, he struck his head on a large rock bringing a flash of bright pain. He lay still for a few moments, stunned, but slowly he came to himself. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked around in confusion trying to see where he was. He was breathing heavily and his body ached and trembled from the long run and the fall down the ravine. Slowly, he sat up, holding his aching head. He blinked rapidly as the memory of what he had been doing gradually came back to him. He had been running. But he couldn't seem to remember why. As he sat there trying to make sense of the situation, he became aware of an unfamiliar weight around his neck. With a growing feeling of dread, he reached beneath his shirt and stiffened as his hand closed around the cold, dead weight of the One Ring; Frodo's ring.  
  
Sam pulled it out and stared at it, aghast. How had he come to possess this thing? Then, his memories came flooding back to him, as if an entire wall had crumbled revealing what lay beyond. In his mind's eye, he could see himself attacking his beloved master, then pushing him over the cliff, dead. He cried out in revulsion - was that really him!? How could he have killed Frodo? He buried his face in his hands and his body shook with great, convulsive sobs. He felt sick. He would never ever have dreamed of hurting dear Mr. Frodo! It was impossible, inconceivable! Slowly, more memories began to seep through. He lifted his tearful face as he recalled his encounter with Saruman and of Saruman's parting words to him, "You will kill the Ring-bearer and bring to me the One Ring."  
  
That was it. Saruman had made him do it. He wasn't truly to blame for this was he? He moaned aloud, burying his face again. "Yes, Samwise Gamgee," he cried to himself, "You've gone and killed Mister Frodo and now you're tryin' to take this accursed ring to that Saruman! If he gets it, I don't believe it will be one smidge better than lettin' the Dark Lord himself get his hands on it! I must get this back to Gandalf at once and face up to what I've done!"  
  
No sooner had he said these words, then the top of his head felt as if it had been sliced off. The pain was excruciating. Sam eyes widened as he gasped for breath, then fought the waves of nausea washing over him. He now realized what this pain meant. Saruman was Commanding him to continue his trek to Isengard and Sam was resisting. But, slowly, reluctantly, he rose to his feet and step by step, started moving towards the south once more.  
  
Pippin gaped in shocked disbelief at Merry. "Noooo!" he whispered, slowly shaking his head. "No! You're wrong! Sam would never hurt Frodo!" Merry stared back at him, his face etched with fear and anguish.  
  
"I saw him do it, Pip," he said mournfully. Now his voice rose in anger, "I saw him hit Frodo with a rock and push him over the cliff!" How could Sam do such a thing? Merry, his jaw set in fury, returned to his excavating attempts with a vengeance. If he ever got his hands on that deceitful gardener, he'd throttle him himself!  
  
Merry's and Pippin's frantic efforts to free themselves finally succeeded when they managed to push enough of the heavy snow and numerous rocks out of the way so they could squeeze out from beneath the barrier created by the avalanche. Scrambling awkwardly through the deep snow, they made their way to the edge of the cliff where Merry had seen Sam push Frodo. The wind and thick, swirling snow made visibility difficult, but they had to look for Frodo.  
  
"Look!" yelled Pippin, his voice barely audible over the wind. Merry huddled closer to his cousin, trying to see what he was pointing at. There, about twelve feet below them was a narrow shelf of rock. On the shelf, they could see a dark form, just barely visible under a rapidly growing layer of new snow.  
  
"Frodo!" cried Merry anxiously. There was no response. Merry turned to Pippin, grabbing him by the arm and shouting, "One of us has to go down there and get him!" Pippin nodded. He stood up and battled his way against the gale to where Bill stood miserably, huddled against the wall of the mountain, slightly sheltered by some large boulders. Pippin searched through the packs before he remembered there was no rope. He recalled Sam bemoaning this oversight just the other day. Shaking his head in frustration, he pulled out a blanket. Using his knife, he was able to cut it into several long strips. He rejoined Merry, and silently, they began tying the strips together.  
  
Merry tied one end of the makeshift rope around Pippin and helped his cousin carefully begin the treacherous descent down to the shelf. Merry wrapped the rope around a tall rock to help support Pippin's weight. The rope was just long enough to reach the shelf and Pippin fell to his hands and knees as soon as his feet made contact with the rock. He frantically brushed the snow away from Frodo and heaved him onto his back. The snow was dark with blood beneath Frodo's head. "Frodo!" Pippin yelled, hoping he could be heard over the screaming wind. Frodo's face was very pale, his lips blue. Pippin grabbed Frodo's wrist, searching for a pulse. With a sigh of relief, he detected one, faint and very rapid, but a pulse just the same.  
  
Looking upwards, Pippin could just see Merry's anxious face peering over the precipice. "He's alive!" he shouted and he saw Merry smile with relief. Pippin untied the rope and fastened it around Frodo, then standing, he waved to Merry to start pulling. Merry tried. He tried as hard as he could, but the long, arduous journey combined with the unbearable cold had sapped much of his remaining strength. He simply could not pull them up by himself. Pippin quickly realized what was happening and was dismayed to see that the sheer face of the cliff would be impossible for him to climb. They were trapped. 


	9. On the Hunt

Author's Note: This story is getting complicated! I think I have too many story lines going now (rest assured, the rest of Fellowship will return shortly)! Well, as long as you guys keep reading it, I'll keep writing it! Hope it doesn't start getting too long (or boring). As always your reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you for your support!  
  
Chapter 9 On the Hunt  
  
Pippin quickly looked around the small, icy shelf. If he and Frodo had to remain here, exposed to the freezing wind and snow, they would quickly die. He feared it might already be too late for Frodo. He turned around and could have shouted with joy. Behind him, was a small cleft splitting the side of the mountain. He plowed through the snow towards it and was relieved to see that it went far enough back to provide protection from the elements. He returned to Frodo and clumsily untied the blanket rope. He looked upwards again and could just make out Merry peering at them through the driving snow. Pippin waved to him, then using all his strength, lifted Frodo by the shoulders and slowly dragged him back into the cave, as far from the fierce, biting wind as possible. He waded back and shouted up to his cousin. "I've found a cave!"  
  
Merry nodded that he understood. He hurried back to Bill and pulled out some food, water and blankets from the pony's packs. He then pulled the rope back up, and making a bundle with one of the blankets, he lowered the supplies down to Pippin. "Pippin!" he yelled over the shrieking wind, "I've got to go find Sam! He has the Ring and I've got to stop him! I'll come back as soon as I can!"  
  
Pippin bit his lip as he caught what was Merry was saying. He understood the urgency of Merry finding Sam, but he didn't much care for being left alone in this little cave high in the Misty Mountains. He also feared for Frodo's life. But, there was nothing to be done. He waved to Merry that he understood and felt tears form as he watched his cousin disappear from the edge of the cliff. Pippin slowly made his way back to the cave where Frodo lay, close to death. Maybe Gandalf and the others would make it back to them, he thought to himself as he opened the bundle Merry had sent down. He was so desperately cold. Every movement had become a chore. He could barely feel his hands or his feet any longer. He opened the blankets, then huddling close to the unconscious Frodo, covered them both hoping their combined body heat would keep them alive until they could be rescued.  
  
Merry felt terrible about abandoning Pippin and Frodo and cursed his weakness. But, there was nothing more he could do. As a signal, he tied a red bandanna to the rope still fastened around the rock. He also hoped that if Gandalf and the others were still alive, they might make it back to this side and rescue Pippin and Frodo before it was too late. In the meantime, he had to try and find Sam. He wasn't sure where Sam was headed, but he felt certain he must be under some kind of spell. That was the only feasible explanation he could come up with. If it was a spell that made Sam attack Frodo, that could mean either Saruman in Orthanc or Sauron in Mordor. If either one of them got their hands on the Ring, it would mean disaster for all of Middle Earth. All he held dear, his family, his friends, and even his beloved Shire, would be destroyed. Right now, Merry was the only one who could possibly prevent this from happening.  
  
He began the trek back down the mountain, hoping that it would be easier going down than it had been going up. At least he felt certain that this was the way Sam had gone. There were no other paths. Once below the snow line, he hoped he would be able to find Sam's trail. Although certainly not in Aragorn's league, Merry had been a fair hand at tracking forest creatures in the extensive woods around Buckland and he prayed that his meager skills would now be sufficient to follow Sam.  
  
He carefully checked periodically for Sam's tracks along the narrow trail just to reassure himself the other hobbit hadn't somehow eluded him already. "Although he'd have to fly to do that!" thought Merry to himself. He couldn't help but worry about Pippin and Frodo, left behind on the mountainside. He continued to pray that Gandalf and the others would find them  
  
A few miles down the path and he was out of the worst of the snow, Merry felt some of his energy returning. The air was warmer down here, and although still cold, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. He had gone some distance when he was forced to come to a stop. He had finally reached the base of the trail and now, he was uncertain as to which direction to take. He squatted down to examine the ground more closely, although the bare rock gave few clues. He stood again, thinking hard. If Sam was attempting to take the Ring to someone, and given what he had heard in Rivendell, Merry suspected that someone to most likely be Saruman, the likeliest direction for Sam to head would be south, towards Isengard. Nodding to himself, he turned southward and continued his journey, determined to find Sam and retrieve the Ring.  
  
He had traveled many miles from the base of the path when he spotted a distinctive foot print in the thin, sandy soil. Kneeling down, he smiled with relief. He was on the right track! Sam was somewhere ahead. This discovery brought with it a rush of renewed energy, and Merry hurried ahead, looking for additional signs. He didn't get much farther that day as the sun was setting quickly below the horizon and dark clouds were gathering. Merry found a small, protected alcove between some rocks and seated himself as comfortably as possible. It wasn't long before the cold, pelting, rains started. He wrapped himself in his thick cloak and eating from the meager supply of rations he had with him, prepared to wait through the long, cold night.  
  
He woke from a fitful sleep as the gray light of early morning illuminated mountain tops. The freezing rain had ended near dawn. Merry was stiff and chilled to the bone, but knew he would warm up once he started moving again. As soon as it was light enough, he carefully searched the ground for Sam's tracks, but was dismayed to find that the heavy rains had washed any signs away. Glumly, he decided to simply continue in the southerly same direction the trail had been leading in the hopes he would find something later on.  
  
It was near midday when he found himself examining the crumbled edge of a high ridge. It looked to Merry as if Sam might of slipped here. There were some small thorn bushes here and several looked crushed and broken. Merry searched around further ahead, but finding no more signs, decided to descend to the valley below. He cautiously sat down on the loose gravel and slid to the bottom, careful to choose a spot well away from where he thought Sam might have fallen. Searching the valley floor, he was rewarded with a scrap of what looked like Sam's shirt caught on a thorn bush. "If only I can catch up with him soon," sighed Merry wearily, fingering the bit of fabric. He wasn't sure what he would do when he did find Sam, but he was becoming more and more worried about Pippin, Frodo, and the others.  
  
It was as these thoughts were swirling about in his head that he heard a low, harsh laugh. Merry's head turned abruptly at the sound and the cold hand of fear gripped his heart. A huge creature stood in among the shadows of the rocks to Merry's right. Merry's mouth fell open in horror. He had never seen such a hideous monster before and quickly realized it must be one of the Uruk-hai Gandalf had told them about. Merry's breath was coming in short, panicked gasps and he felt frozen to the spot, unable to turn his eyes away.  
  
"Well, well, well," sneered the huge Uruk, casually swaggering over towards Merry, "Looks like Lord Saruman was right! You did come find us!" Merry stared at him in confusion. It took him a moment before he realized the Uruk must think he was Sam. With a yelp, Merry turned and tried to flee, but the Uruk quickly snatched him by his shirt, bringing the struggling hobbit up to eye level. Merry thought he would be ill as the creature's foul smelling breath washed over him. The Uruk frowned as he examined Merry more closely.  
  
"Somethin's not right, here," it growled, staring suspiciously into Merry's wide eyes, "I've seen creatures under the power of one of the Master's Commands and they don't look like you. I'm thinkin' that maybe yer not the halfling we're lookin' for! I think Gorek might wanna take a look at you." 


	10. The Fellowship

Author's Note: And here they are. the Fellowship! Trying to get these updates out in a timely fashion, but darn it, life keeps getting in the way! Anyway, here's the newest installment. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks again!  
  
Chapter 10 The Fellowship  
  
Legolas looked on anxiously as Aragorn and Boromir took their turns at excavating a passageway through the avalanche debris. He and Gimli stood back after their own turn had finished and were working to move snow and rock back out of the tunnel. Gandalf, using his staff to illuminate the snow face stood behind them. He didn't dare use magic to move the rock and snow, fearing it would bring more down upon them. He did use a simple spell, however, to keep the tunnel from collapsing. All of them were desperately worried about the hobbits.  
  
"Do you think they survived?" asked Gimli despondently, wiping snow from his eyes.  
  
"I do not know," replied Gandalf, his tone grim. The hobbits had been some distance behind them, and although he hoped they had managed to evade being buried, he feared the worst. He angrily thought of the distant voice they had heard, coming to them on the wings of the buffeting wind. He knew all too well who was responsible not only for the vile weather, but the deadly avalanche as well. Saruman would stop at nothing to bring an end to their quest.  
  
"I've broken through!" cried Aragorn. He was up to his arm in snow, but his hand was free. Using Boromir's shield as a shovel, they dug furiously, pushing snow and debris behind them, Finally, the entire wall before them fell away and the remaining members of the Fellowship were met by a fierce blast of icy wind. All of them scrambled through the opening and began shouting for the hobbits.  
  
"Frodo!" cried Gandalf frantically, "Merry! Pippin!" He lifted his glowing staff high, trying to detect any sign of the hobbits' presence. He spied Bill, still huddled behind his makeshift windbreak, covered with ice and looking desperately miserable. Gandalf waded over to the pony and upon discovering hobbit tracks in the snow, felt his hope renewed. Suddenly, he heard Legolas cry out in alarm.  
  
He turned about and saw Legolas examining something red fastened to a tall rock. The others joined the elf to see what he had found. "It's a rope!" shouted Legolas looking over the edge of the cliff. "It leads down to that shelf!" They all huddled together, peering down, seeing nothing but snow. Legolas pulled on the rope, testing its fastness, then carefully stepped over the edge of the cliff, and nimbly climbed down to the shelf.  
  
It took him only a moment to spy the small crevice in the face of the cliff and he quickly made his way over the snow to the entrance. Looking inside, he saw a pile of blankets huddled against the back wall. He hurried over and gently lifted the coverings to find two nearly frozen hobbits enfolded in each other's arms. "Frodo! Pippin!" he cried gently.  
  
Pippin's eyes slowly opened when he heard his name. With great effort, he turned his head to meet Legolas's worried eyes. "Legolas!" he whispered faintly, "You made it!" He then lapsed back into unconsciousness. Legolas lifted Pippin and securely wrapped him in one of the blankets, taking care to keep Frodo covered as well. Returning to the wind swept shelf, he grabbed hold of the robe and with Aragorn's help quickly climbed to the top, bearing the limp hobbit. He handed Pippin off to Boromir, then swiftly returned to the cave to retrieve Frodo.  
  
When he reached the top of the cliff the second time, Gandalf cried, "We must go back down the mountain and out of this storm!"  
  
"What of Merry and Sam?" shouted Aragorn, "I can find no sign of either one!"  
  
"Frodo and Pippin are near death!" returned Gandalf, "If we are to save them, we must find shelter. Perhaps they can tell us more of the others!" None of them were happy at leaving without two of their companions, but if they were save the lives of those they had found, they must act quickly.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir again plowed their way through the newly fallen snow, their previous path all but obliterated. Gandalf carried Frodo and Legolas, Pippin, both hobbits securely wrapped in their blankets to provide what protection they could. Gimli followed with the unfortunate, but faithful pony, Bill.  
  
They had only gone a few miles when the snow disappeared almost as abruptly as it had appeared. Legolas handed Pippin to Boromir and ran ahead to look for shelter. He soon returned and guided them to a large, dry cave, well sheltered from the bitter wind. Aragorn quickly built a fire and Pippin and Frodo were placed near its life-giving warmth.. Aragorn gently unwrapped Frodo's blanket and inhaled sharply at the blood covering the pale hobbit's face and head. Gandalf stood behind him, suddenly frowning. Something wasn't right. He reached past Aragorn and pushed aside Frodo's shirt. The Ring was nowhere to be seen..  
  
"The Ring!" breathed Aragorn in dismay, "It's gone!" He carefully searched through Frodo's clothing, but the Ring was gone. The others gathered around, Boromir glowered at them.  
  
"If we had taken the Ring to Gondor as I had pleaded, this would not have happened!" he growled.  
  
"Do you think it is still up on the mountain?" asked Gimli, standing beside Gandalf and ignoring Boromir's outburst. "Should we go look for it?"  
  
"It's not on the mountain." They turned quickly as Pippin's curly head slowly emerged from beneath his blanket, the warmth from the fire helping to revive him.  
  
"Pippin," said Gandalf quietly, kneeling by the young hobbit, "drink this." He held a small flask to Pippin's mouth, helping the frozen hobbit to drink the clear, fragrant liquor inside. Pippin immediately felt warmth spread through his shivering body. Gandalf was relieved to see some color returning to Pippin's cheeks. He handed the flask to Aragorn. "Miruvor," the wizard replied to Aragorn's questioning glance. Aragorn nodded and carefully poured a small amount into Frodo's mouth. Frodo was so cold and pale, his skin like frozen porcelain. Aragorn felt Frodo's pulse become just a bit stronger and hope returned.  
  
Gandalf turned back to Pippin, helping him to sit up. He looked grimly down at the young hobbit. "Pippin," he said again, "Do you know what has happened to the Ring?"  
  
"And where are Merry and Sam?" added Gimli, drawing nearer.  
  
Pippin was still very cold, but the elixir and the fire were helping to revitalize him. "Sam.Sam attacked Frodo," he said through chattering teeth. "M.Merry saw Sam hit Frodo with a rock, take the ring and push Frodo over the cliff." This brought exclamations of horror and disbelief from the others. None could imagine gentle, humble Samwise Gamgee assaulting his beloved master.  
  
"You're sure of this?" asked Gandalf staring at Pippin intensely. "You know for sure that Sam took the Ring?"  
  
Pippin nodded miserably. "Merry said he saw Sam put it on and disappear! He said it didn't look like Sam at all. His eyes were different or.or something. As soon as we dug our way out of the avalanche, we went to find Frodo. Merry lowered me down, but he couldn't pull me back up and I couldn't climb.the storm was so bad! So, he.he left us some food and the blankets and went after Sam."  
  
"This is a fine turn of events!" growled Boromir again, beginning to pace in the confined space. "We never should have entrusted something so important as the One Ring to a simple hobbit! Now, it is gone and no one knows where! My guess is the Dark Lord will have it within the week!"  
  
The others just glared at him, but Gandalf closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders slumped. "I should have seen this coming!" he sighed softly. "I knew something was not quite right with Sam since his rescue, but there were so many other tasks and responsibilities to be dealt with that I paid little heed to my own inner warnings. I could have prevented this!" He felt surge of anger at himself. How could have been so blind? That Numenorean blade had been more than just an insult to Gandalf, it had also been a warning that Sam was in Saruman's power. It was obvious to Gandalf now that Sam was acting under the power of a Command, a subconscious spell that required the victim to fulfill some task. It wasn't hard to figure out what Sam's task had been.  
  
"A Command?" repeated Aragorn thoughtfully. "So you believe that Sam is headed to Isengard?"  
  
"Yes, but I am also greatly disturbed to learn that Sam has already used the Ring." sighed Gandalf staring down at Frodo's pale face. Aragorn had just finished applying a bandage to the ugly wound. "One of the Nine is still unaccounted for. If Sam uses the Ring, it will be drawn to the Ring's power. And no doubt Saruman has some of his Uruk-hai skulking about as well waiting for Sam to appear. Now, it is a question of who will find him first? Us? Or one of them?"  
  
"Do you think Sam will realize what is happening and attempt to return to us?" asked Aragorn quietly. He had been thinking hard about all of this and knew that these hobbits were not always as simple as they appeared.  
  
Gandalf turned to Aragorn. "It is possible," he replied thoughtfully, "But unlikely. Not many can withstand a Command placed by a wizard in his full powers. I am amazed that Sam was able to resist as long as he had. Hobbits truly are amazing creatures."  
  
"Could that be why he had so many bad headaches?" asked Pippin suddenly. The others turned to him. "He didn't think anyone noticed, but it was obvious to me that he was having some mighty fierce ones."  
  
"Yes," Gandalf replied slowly. "That could very well explain his bad headaches." He sighed again. "I should have seen it coming!"  
  
Pippin turned his attention to Aragorn as he finished treating Frodo. "Will Frodo be alright?" he asked the ranger hesitantly, afraid of what he might hear.  
  
Aragorn sat back on his heels, wiping sweat from his brow. He smiled wearily at the anxious hobbit. "He has a nasty head wound," he replied, "And probably a concussion as well, but I don't think Sam truly meant to kill him. He was able to avoid that much, at least. I think Frodo will be alright once we get him warmed up." Aragorn thought sadly of the small gardener. He wondered if Sam would remember what he had done to Frodo and what effect it would have on him. Knowing he had purposefully injured his cherished master, could destroy the gentle Sam.  
  
"Well, what are we to do now?" demanded Boromir brusquely. He had stopped pacing and stood, arms crossed near the entrance to the cave. "Are we to wait here in the hopes that the hobbit returns of his own accord or perhaps Saruman will be so kind as to return the Ring to us!" His face was dark with anger.  
  
Gandalf stood and faced the furious Gondorian. "No," he replied shortly, "We must pursue Sam with all speed. We cannot allow him to be taken by either the agents of Saruman or Sauron. I pray that we will find Merry as well." He turned to the others. "However, if we do not find Sam in time, then I fear all our efforts will have been for naught and locating Merry will be the least of our worries." 


	11. Voice of Deceit

Chapter 11 The Voice of Deceit  
  
Sam had stopped again. He had traveled several more miles towards Isengard, but fought every step of the way. He felt as if some invisible force had him in its grip and was relentlessly pulling him on. Now that he knew what was happening, he wasn't willing to cooperate if he could help it. But, it was hard, so incredibly hard. His head pounded mercilessly and always he could hear the voice of Saruman calling to him, urging him on. He was beyond exhaustion and felt so weak. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the day before and his mouth was like sand. He was gasping for breath and his legs were shaking. Hobbits were not meant for cross-country running. He closed his eyes and sank to the ground, wheezing and holding his throbbing head. All of his meager energy stores were being used to fight the call of Saruman's Command. "Oh Mister Frodo!" he moaned in black despair, "I've made a right mess of everything! I hope someday you can forgive your poor Sam for betraying you like this!"  
  
As Sam sat there, lost in the mire of his hopeless misery, he slowly became aware of a second voice murmuring, whispering in the back of his mind. His head snapped up in alarm, eyes wide. He knew instinctively it was the Ring calling to him. How could he possibly fight both the powers of the Ring and Saruman? He felt like he was going mad. The Ring was urging him to put it on, to disappear from all his cares. He would be safe then. All would be forgiven. It was a hypnotic call and Sam's hand inched up towards the ring dangling from its silver chain. But, no sooner had he clenched it in his fist, his own voice, strong with good common hobbit-sense, cried out "No!"  
  
His hand flew away from the Ring as if burned, Sam's face now bathed in sweat at the effort. He knew he must return the Ring to Gandalf or perhaps Lord Elrond, but would he be able to? With both Saruman and Sauron calling him, Sam seriously doubted his ability to resist the siren song of the Enemy. It also occurred to him that if Saruman's Uruk-hai had been waiting for him the first time, there were sure to be some looking for him now. Another thought occurred to him. One even more chilling. He hesitantly pulled out the Ring and felt his stomach clench with an icy fear. Uneasily, he recalled using the Ring while escaping down the mountain. He also remembered Gandalf saying that one of the Nazgul apparently had not perished in the flood. If that were the case, Sam had no doubt that the Ringwraith was also hunting him. Sam had never felt more alone in his entire life. .  
Sam sat on the ground awhile longer, trying to catch his breath, desperately trying to find the strength to rise and fight his way back towards Rivendell. "North," he thought dully, "All I have to do is go north." Slowly, painfully, he climbed to his feet. The world spun around him and his legs trembled. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, then turned and began trudging back the way he had come. He felt as if he was wading through quicksand, every step harder than the last. Because the ravine walls were so steep, he was forced to follow it's path. It seemed to be heading in the northerly direction he wished to take, so he went. He was holding onto the hope that he might encounter the others from the Fellowship searching for him. He had no idea where they were, or where he was for that matter. He just knew that if they figured out that he had the Ring, they would be after him at once. At the very least, he hoped he could find his way back to the elves. Perhaps they would kill him for his heinous betrayal, but if Mr. Frodo was indeed dead, Sam cared little for his own fate. He deserved to die. He deserved every abominable torment the elves could conceive of. He was sure, if they put their minds to it, the elves could come up with some terrible ones. "No amount of pain and suffering is punishment enough for what you've done, Samwise Gamgee!" thought Sam fiercely.  
  
The throbbing in his head never stopped, nor did the whispering, seductive voices. If only they would be quiet and let him alone, even for a moment., he thought desperately. He was so very tired, but he didn't dare rest. He was afraid if he fell asleep, he would lose all control. He frequently stumbled and fell, tears of exhaustion and misery staining his dirt-smeared face. It seemed as if he had made little headway. Then the darkness of night came and with it, the rain. It pounded him, the floor of the ravine became a sea of mud, sucking at his plodding feet. He could feel what little hope he had left draining away with his remaining strength.  
  
He was so cold. His sodden garments clung to him, his breath visible in the raw, freezing rain. His feet felt like lumps of lead. He slipped again and lay in the sea of gray mud, sobbing and shivering uncontrollably. "Oh, Mr. Frodo," he moaned "What am I going to do?"  
  
"Sam!" Sam lay silently for a moment, then sluggishly raised his head in bewilderment. The voiced called again, "Sam!" Sam pushed himself into a sitting position and peered through the gathering gloom trying to find the source of the sound.  
  
"Mi.Mister Frodo?" he whispered. He cast frantically about the narrow ravine. He knew he'd heard the voice of his beloved master. It came again, this time sounding annoyed and impatient.  
  
"Samwise Gamgee!" Startled, Sam looked upwards, his eyes wide with shock, spied his master standing on a tall rock, slightly higher than Sam's head. Although it was dark, Frodo seemed to glow and appeared unaffected by the pelting rain.  
  
Sam crawled through the muck, closer to the base of the rock, gazing up at Frodo in mute disbelief. How could this be!? "Mister Frodo?" he choked, "Are.are you alive?"  
  
Frodo stood, arms crossed, looking down at Sam with the obvious disdain. "Of course I'm not alive, you fool!" he sneered scornfully, "You killed me, remember?" If Frodo had stabbed Sam through the heart with Saruman's dagger, he could not have caused Sam greater pain.  
  
"Oh master!" Sam sobbed wretchedly, the tears mixing with the rain on his face, "I never meant to hurt you! I'd just as soon kill myself as hurt a hair on your head! Please!" he pleaded despairingly, "Please forgive me! It was a spell that Saruman put on me! You know your Sam would never hurt you!"  
  
Frodo snorted in disgust. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" He stared down into Sam's woebegone face shaking his head. "You truly are a fool, Samwise Gamgee. Saruman is not our enemy! Gandalf is the treacherous one! He has been leading us into a trap from the start!"  
  
Sam gaped at Frodo, his mouth open in disbelief. "I.I don't understand, Mr. Frodo. Gandalf would never do anything like that!"  
  
Frodo leaned forward, continuing to stare intently into Sam's frightened eyes. He spoke very slowly and distinctly as if addressing a rather dull-witted child. "Where was Gandalf leading us? To Mordor! And who is in Mordor? Sauron, the very person who wants the Ring more than anyone! How can you not see that Gandalf was trying to return the Ring to the Dark Lord?"  
  
Sam was shivering worse than ever. He felt so confused and disoriented. None of this made any sense! He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the rain from his eyes. It certainly looked like Mr. Frodo up there on the rock, but if he was truly dead, how could that be?  
  
"Sam," Frodo's voice had changed now. It was gentle and soothing . Sam peered up at him hopefully. "Dearest Sam. You know I would never do anything to harm you, don't you? I only want to protect you and do what is best for the Shire." Frodo smiled warmly at Sam and Sam felt his heart sing with joy.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Frodo!" he replied eagerly. "I know you'd never do anything that would hurt your Sam!"  
  
Frodo nodded in satisfaction, still smiling. "Then Sam, you must do one thing for me. One small thing. Surely after what you did to me, you would not refuse me?"  
  
Again, Sam suffered the sharp pain of guilt and grief. He couldn't possibly deny Frodo anything after the horrible thing he'd done, now could he? "I.I'll do anything you want, Mr. Frodo."  
  
"Then," began Frodo, a look of triumph appearing in his glittering eyes, "You must promise to take the Ring to Saruman. He is the only one with wisdom enough to know how to best deal with it. Do you understand me, Sam? You must take the Ring to Saruman!"  
  
An icy finger of fear ran up Sam's spine. This was not right. He knew in his heart that Gandalf would never betray them, yet, how could he deny his beloved Frodo his request? Sam stared at Frodo and slowly nodded. Frodo still smiling his strangely triumphant smile slowly faded from sight, leaving Sam alone and bereft in the cold, wet night. 


	12. Samwise the Brave

Author's Note: I guess I'm getting these updates out faster than anticipated, but I fear next week will be very busy and updates less frequent.  
  
IFF: Yeah, I think this story is turning out a bit longer than expected! What can I say!? I figured you did so many reviews for the last chapter because you just that excited about it! LOL.  
  
Minty: I'm not sure we should allow you sharp, pointy things! You're beginning to sound a bit, um, deranged? Truly understandable, however.  
  
ElevenPirate: I always wondered why Boromir carted that big heavy shield around. I mean was its purpose functional or decorative? Anyway, I figured it was about time he actually did something useful with it!  
  
FrodoBaggins: Thanks for the wonderful review for "The Long Way Home". I'm really getting kind of addicted to this writing thing! My classwork is beginning to suffer.*sigh* I look forward to more of your tales!  
  
Samwise the Strong: There simply is not enough quality Sam torture IMHO! Much too much Frodo suffering. I'm all about equal opportunity!  
  
Aemilia, Bookworm 2000, Gamgeefest and Guumajo: I want to thank you guys so much for your numerous wonderfully encouraging reviews! I always get excited when you give feedback (maybe that's why I'm inspired to update quickly - I'm addicted to reviews!)  
  
I also want to thank Wanda, Tinuviel, Three Fifthling mini-wraith, Kay, Amrun, ( I hope I didn't miss anyone) - You guys are the greatest! Your reviews really mean a lot to me. I know people don't have to review the stories they read, but I truly appreciate y'all letting me know what you thing. I hope you're still reading and enjoying this convoluted tale of woe! ____________________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 12 Samwise the Brave  
  
Sam sat unmoving in the pouring rain. He was thinking hard about what just happened. He had been so happy to see Frodo standing there before him, but he was troubled by Frodo's request. Could Gandalf truly have been leading them into a trap? But, even Lord Elrond had agreed that the only place the Ring could be destroyed was in the fires of Mt. Doom. Yet, on the other hand, Frodo had never lied to him before. Sam leaned forward, resting his aching head in his hands. It was so hard to think. His mind couldn't wrap itself around all the things that had been happening to him since the avalanche. All he really wanted to do was crawl into a hole someplace and sleep. He raised his head, sighing despondently. Well, he could at least find a hole and get out of the rain. He was shivering more violently than ever and his body was suddenly wracked by a bout of deep, painful coughing. "Wonderful," he moaned aloud, "Now I'm gettin' sick on top of everything else! I might as well just throw myself off a cliff and be done with it!" For a moment, he seriously considered that prospect. But Sam, even as beaten down and wretched as he was, could never quite bring himself to do something so drastic and final. There was always a faint spark of hope dwelling quietly in the far reaches of his heart.  
  
He struggled to his feet and lowering his head against the driving rain, began slogging through the deep mud in search of shelter. He finally located a narrow fissure in the ravine wall that provided at least the illusion of shelter. He crawled in and collapsed on the cold, damp rock. Hard as he fought to stay awake, he was so utterly exhausted, that he soon lost the battle and sleep overtook him.  
  
When Sam awoke the next morning, the rain had stopped. He felt terrible. His throat hurt and the deep, rattling cough seemed worse than ever. Bouts of shivering left him feeling as if he had never slept. He crawled out of the crevice, his cramped muscles screaming in pain. Outside, in the gray morning light, the ravine was a sea of mud and large puddles Sam stood up stiffly and scooped some water from a rocky hollow. At least the rain allowed him to slake his thirst. If only he had some food. His last meal was just a distant memory.  
  
He leaned against the rock and wearily pondered his next step. Should he attempt to return to Rivendell or should he fulfill his promise to Frodo and continue to Isengard? He closed his eyes for just a moment. Then, mechanically and without conscious thought, he turned southward and started walking. After a short distance, he stopped, frowning. What was he doing? It was strange, he considered, but as long as he moved willingly towards Isengard, his head no longer hurt so much and he experienced a feeling of tranquility. The pulling sensation actually made the journey seem effortless when he wasn't fighting against it. "Maybe Mr. Frodo was right," mused Sam numbly. "It's so much easier this way. Perhaps this is the way I'm supposed to go." Even if it wasn't, he simply didn't have the strength to fight any longer.  
  
He stayed close to the ravine wall where there was less mud to deal with. He plodded along mindlessly, hour after hour, occasionally stopping when the bouts of coughing were upon him. It was well into the afternoon when he detected an unusual tromping sound behind him. He stopped and slowly turned towards the noise, frowning. It was only a few moments before a huge, black creature came trotting along the ravine, moving easily and tirelessly. "One of them Uruk-hai!' thought Sam wildly, feeling the familiar sense of fear, and yet, he also experienced a strong compulsion to cry out to the creature, making it aware of his presence. But some instinct stopped him. The Uruk was carrying something slung over its shoulder and as it approached the spot where Sam stood shrouded in shadows, the hobbit realized that that something was Merry!  
  
The sight of his friend being carried off by the huge Uruk-hai galvanized Sam into action. He immediately understood that Merry must have been following him and the last thing Sam wanted was to be responsible for the death or injury of another of his friends. He had to do something! Scurrying out of the shadows, his short sword in his hand, Sam cried "Stop!"  
  
The Uruk wheeled around, almost as if he had been expecting this, and faced the grim faced hobbit. "Well, what have we here?," the Uruk grunted curiously peering closely at the small figure standing before him. "Another halfling!" He studied Sam warily, then nodded. "I think you just might be the halfling I'm lookin' for. You look like things ain't been goin' too easy on you!" He smiled knowingly and began to reach towards Sam.  
  
"Sam! Run!" croaked Merry struggling to see around the Uruk's broad back, "Get away!" The Uruk keeping his eyes fixed on Sam, absently dumped Merry onto the ground. Merry scuttled away, slipping in the mud, and ducked behind a boulder. He gasped in dismay as he finally spied Sam several feet away. Sam looked as if he had aged 20 years overnight. His face was haggard and his eyes sunken and red-rimmed with exhaustion. It appeared as if he could barely stand upright. "No, Sam!" Merry whispered in desperation, "Don't let it get you!" He reached for his own sword, groaning in frustration as he remembered the Uruk had taken it from him shortly after his capture.  
  
But Sam was tired of running. He was tired of being used and victimized. But most of all, he was tired of seeing his friends suffer. Frodo was dead by Sam's own hand and now Merry was here because of him. Sam was not about to have the blood of another innocent soul on his head. "Yes! I'm the one you want," rasped Sam angrily, he could feel the pain growing in his head again, making it seem as if would explode. Saruman was not pleased with this turn of events.  
  
The massive form of the Uruk cautiously circled around Sam. "So, rat," he sneered, "Just what do you think yer goin' to do with that little pin? Surely you don't think you can hurt me with it do you?" He laughed harshly but stopped abruptly when Sam suddenly disappeared from sight. "Hey! What's goin' on?" growled the Uruk in confusion, spinning around trying to catch a glimpse of the hobbit. "Where did you go?" He then howled in pain and surprise when Sam's sword caught him behind the knee. Whirling quickly, he almost grabbed the invisible Sam who just managed to dance out of the Uruk's groping reach. The Uruk was furious.The last thing he expected was to have to fight some half-grown rat. He roared again and that was when Sam found his opportunity. He rushed in and thrust his sword upward with all his might, finding the space between the Uruk's breastplate and his chest. It was with great satisfaction that Sam felt the sword slide home, burying itself deep into the creature's black heart. The Uruk snarled in rage, staggering several feet before finally collapsing into the mud, dead.  
  
Sam stumbled backwards, away from the creature's body, gasping and coughing. It was then he realized how different the world looked under the power of the Ring. It was then that he felt the full force of the fiery Eye of Sauron. Sam stared, mesmerized by the sight. He might have stood there forever if another harsh voice hadn't broken the hypnotic spell.  
  
"Come out now, halfling, or yer friend is done for!" Sam blinked and turned as if in a dream. Standing behind him, backed up to the ravine wall, was the Uruk, Gorek. He stood with Merry in his iron grip and holding a vicious looking dagger at the hobbit's exposed throat. Gorek was peering around, trying to figure out where Sam was. "Did you hear me, halfling?" he growled again, pressing the knife more firmly against Merry's throat, causing a thin trickle of blood.  
  
Merry gasped in pain, but still had the courage to cry, "Sam! Never mind about me! Run!" He whimpered again as the Uruk's knife cut a little deeper into his tender flesh.  
  
"Shut up, you!" Gorek snarled, still peering about. He called again. "I'm warnin' you now, halfling! Show yerself or this runt is as good as dead!' 


	13. Frodo

Author's Note:  
  
Bookworm2000: ACK! You have seen through my nefarious plan! Just for that, you WILL have to wait to see what happens to our intrepid hobbits! Bwahahahaha!  
  
Person-With-Cheesy-Made-Up-Names: OK, here it is! The next chapter. But perhaps, it is not quite what you were hoping for?  
  
Amrun: Welcome back! I've missed you! Hope you're feeling better!  
  
Now: Will Sam save Merry or will Merry have his head made into a necklace for Gorek? These questions and more WILL be answered..eventually. Meanwhile, back at the ranch...  
  
______________________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 13 Frodo  
  
Gandalf and the others spent the night in the cave, waiting until it was light enough to follow Merry and Sam's trails. Aragorn feared they would miss them if they tried to travel in the dark. Pippin kept a vigil by Frodo all through the long, cold hours. It was near dawn when Pippin noticed Frodo beginning to stir.  
  
"Frodo?" Frodo's eyes flickered at the sound of his name, then slowly slid open. Staring down at him was Pippin's pale, worried face. "Frodo? Can you hear me?"  
  
"Pippin?" Pippin sighed with relief as he gripped his cousin's hand.  
  
"Yes!" he smiled encouragingly, "It's me! How do you feel?"  
  
Frodo considered this for a moment. He moved his head slightly and immediately regretted it. He frowned in confusion. "What happened?" he croaked.  
  
"You don't remember?" asked Pippin apprehensively. He was hoping that Frodo would recall what had befallen him the day before. Pippin was not eager to inform his cousin of Sam's betrayal.  
  
"Nooo," replied Frodo slowly, but he was distracted by another sensation, that of a profound loss and yearning. His right hand suddenly reached up and groped for the Ring that no longer hung around his neck. "Where is it!?" he cried desperately, "Where is the Ring?" Frodo turned accusing eyes on Pippin and hissed, "What have you done with it?"  
  
Pippin sat back in alarm. He was shocked by Frodo's fierce reaction to losing the Ring even though Gandalf had warned him this might happen. Pippin bit his lip, trying to decide the best way to tell Frodo what had happened, and quickly decided there was nothing to do but have out with it. "Sam took it," he blurted miserably, "He attacked you yesterday and took the Ring. Gandalf thinks that somehow Saruman put a spell on him and made him do it!" he added quickly. "Otherwise, Sam would never have hurt you!" Pippin watched nervously as Frodo's face quickly changed from disbelief to surprise, then sharp anger.  
  
"I knew it!" seethed Frodo furiously gripping the blanket . "That sniveling coward! Always following me, always watching me! He's wanted it for himself all along!  
  
Pippin's mouth hung open in astonishment. He felt a little frightened of the hobbit lying before him. He had never seen Frodo behave this way. "It.it wasn't really Sam's fault." he ventured hesitantly. "Gandalf said that Sam has probably been fighting Saruman's Command ever since he was rescued from the Uruk-hai. You know that Sam's been having terrible headaches.. Gandalf thinks that's why!"  
  
Frodo turned on him, eyes flashing, "Headaches! HA! What do I care about headaches!? Sam stole my Ring! I hope some orc tears him limb from limb! It's the least he deserves!" Then, as suddenly as it had come, his anger drained away. Frodo raised his hand to his pounding head. "Oh, Pippin!" he moaned wearily, "What am I saying!? I know Sam would never willingly hurt me, yet here I am accusing him of the most terrible things." He closed his burning eyes. "Where is he now?"  
  
Pippin sighed bleakly. "We don't know. He attacked you and disappeared. Gandalf said one of the Nine is still out there somewhere and will be drawn to the Ring. He also thinks Saruman has some of those big orcs out there watching for Sam as well. Things don't look too good." He hesitated a moment, then said, "Merry has gone after him."  
  
Frodo stared up at the ceiling. As desperate as he was to regain the Ring, he was even more anxious to find his dear friends alive and well. How had things managed to go so wrong so quickly? He sighed unhappily and closed his eyes again.  
  
"Frodo?" Frodo turned and saw Gandalf kneeling beside him. "How do you feel?"  
  
"Oh Gandalf!" he sighed, "I feel terrible! Sam and Merry are gone and it's all my fault!" He said nothing of his desperate craving to find the Ring. Just thinking about it caused his anger to flare again. If he ever laid hands on that Samwise Gamgee..  
  
"Frodo," said Gandalf quietly, breaking into this thoughts, "None of this is your fault. It is Sauron's fault for forging the Ring in the first place. It is Saruman's fault for bewitching Sam and causing the avalanche. However, and I repeat, none of this is your fault!"  
  
Aragorn now joined them. He smiled at Frodo and gently checked his bandages. "I think you will live," he said, "A nasty knock on the head and a touch of frostbite. Otherwise, you seem to survived your ordeal in one piece. I believe some nourishment is in order." Strider said this lightly, but noting the fierce, burning intensity in Frodo's eyes, he exchanged worried looks with Gandalf.  
  
Frodo wasn't sure he could swallow anything. His throat felt tight and constricted. He couldn't help thinking about the Ring. Where was it? Would he ever get it back? His reverie was interrupted by Gimli's appearance with some breakfast. Aragorn and Gandalf helped Frodo sit up and leaned him against a nearby boulder. "Eat up, young hobbits!" boomed the dwarf, "Nothing like hot porridge to warm the bones on a raw mornin' such as this!" Frodo weakly smiled his thanks and with some effort, managed to swallow some of the thick mixture. Surprisingly, it did begin to revitalize him.  
  
The others were beginning to pack up. Pippin sat beside Frodo, his own bowl empty in his hands. "We're going to try and track down Sam and Merry," he told Frodo quietly. "Aragorn thinks we should be able to follow their trail without too much trouble." He paused, biting his lip and studying his bowl worriedly, "I..I just hope we're not too late."  
  
Frodo looked at his young cousin and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Pippin." he smiled, "If anyone can find them, Strider can." Leaning back he though grimly to himself, "He'd better."  
  
It wasn't long before they were all ready to go. It was decided that neither of the hobbits was in any shape for extensive walking, so again, Boromir carried Pippin and Legolas carried Frodo. This allowed Aragorn the freedom to track the missing hobbits. They were going on the belief that Sam would head south towards Isengard. They hadn't gone too far before Aragorn spotted the first sign - one of Merry's footprints. "At least we have found one of them, " he said hopefully. "Let up pray that he is on the trail of the other!" 


	14. Hard Choices

Author's Note: Well, I decided to go ahead and post this, but be warned, due to some projects that require my attention, it may be a few days before the next chapter!  
  
Gamgeefest: I wanted to thank you for inviting me to join your group. Unfortunately, time constraints force me to decline for the moment (plus there's the fact that you have now read my entire portfolio of works - all 3 stories- well, unless you want to count the epic novel I wrote in 7th grade about how my entire 7th grade class was captured by Nazis, locked up in a prison camp from which we all escaped by digging tunnels with spoons!)  
  
Anyway, here is the next chapter!  
  
Chapter 14 Hard Choices  
  
Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no doubt in in mind what he had to do. He simply couldn't allow anything to happen to Mr. Merry. He'd done enough harm already. He quickly pulled off the Ring and winked back into sight. The Uruk gave a small grunt of surprise, but quickly recovered. Right away he recognized this halfling as the one he had been searching for. Still maintaining his grip on Merry, Gorek strode over to Sam and slammed him into the rock wall with a mighty backhanded clout.  
  
Sam lay stunned on the ground, bright flashes of pain pounding in his head. Merry cried out in anger as Gorek stalked over to Sam and lifted bodily him by his shirtfront. "That's for killin' one of my best men!" he snarled, giving Sam a bone-rattling shake. "If it were up to me, I'd rip you apart limb by limb and eat you raw right now!" Sam's eyes widened with fear as he tried to collect himself. Gorek's eyes narrowed menacingly, "But, the Master says he wants you alive." He paused, then grinned. "For now!"  
  
With that, Gorek tucked the hobbits firmly beneath his massive arms and began trotting south towards Isengard. Lord Saruman would be quite pleased with him, he thought, especially since now that he would be returning with two of the halflings.  
  
Merry knew they were in serious trouble. He glanced over at Sam as they bounced along and was again appalled at how haggard and ill his friend looked. Any anger Merry had harbored towards Sam for what he done to Frodo had rapidly disappeared once Merry saw how much Sam was suffering. "I think he looks even worse than Frodo did after that wraith attacked him!" thought Merry unhappily. He was wondering how they were ever going to get out of this alive. He still held a faint hope that perhaps the rest of the Fellowship would find them, but he wondered if Sam would last that long. Sam refused to meet his eyes.  
  
Night was fast approaching, yet the Uruk-hai showed no signs of stopping. They had long since moved out of the ravine and were now were following a high bluff overlooking a wide, swiftly moving river. Foaming rapids could be seen churning below. Up till now, Gorek had been traveling easily, without any serious concerns, but gradually he became aware of a growing sense of uneasiness. Not fear really, Uruk-hai did not fear anything, but something was wrong. He slowed his pace and began peering around at the surrounding darkness enshrouding the rocks and trees. Something was definitely out there.  
  
Merry felt the change in the Uruk's pace and a moment later, he experienced a familiar sense of dread and terror. His eyes went wide as he realized a Nazgul must be near. He could feel his heart begin to race as he looked over towards Sam. Sam's eyes were tightly closed and he was gasping for breath. Merry knew that Sam must be fighting the call of the Ring and was actually thankful that the Uruk had such a tight grip on them. It was probably the only thing keeping Sam from putting the Ring on.  
  
Gorek had come to a full stop. Just in front of them, he had spied a dark figure, blending into the shadows of the night. Uruks had no trouble seeing in the dark and it wasn't difficult for him to make out the figure looming there. Suddenly, the specter spoke, its voice a rasping hiss. "Give me the halfling, orc." Gorek just stared at it. He wasn't about to hand over his prize to this creature, no matter what it was. Being a creation of Saruman's, he had no feelings of allegiance to one of Sauron's minions. Gorek glanced about and saw a small grotto, surrounded by rocks on three sides. Carefully, backing up, he unceremoniously dumped the two hobbits there.  
  
"Don't move!" he snarled warningly, then turned to face the Nazgul.  
  
"Sam!" whispered Merry frantically pulling on his arm, "Sam! We've got to get out of here!" But, Sam didn't seem to hear. His eyes had rolled up into his head and he was shaking from head to toe, the Ring tightly clenched in his hand. The call was so powerful and his ability to fight it was rapidly failing.  
  
Merry's attention abruptly turned to the battle beyond the grotto. He couldn't see much, but he could hear the Uruk cry out in rage as the Nazgul flung him aside into the rocks. Merry gasped in terror as he saw the Wraith turn towards them. As if in a nightmare, the Wraith swiftly and silently descended upon them, black as death. It could feel the Ring and detected the two beings before it. Merry tried to throw himself in front of Sam to protect him, but as with the Uruk-hai, the Nazgul simply batted him aside. It drew closer and closer to Sam and the terrified hobbit could feel its cold breath wash over him, dank and fetid as a long-closed grave. Sam fought as hard as anyone could, yet he was unable resist the Ring's call any longer and helplessly,hopelessly, he slipped the cold, metal band onto his finger.  
  
Horrified, Sam now saw the Nazgul in its true form - a pale cadaverous figure, the mere shade of the king it had once been. With a scream of triumph, the Nazgul reached for Sam and the Ring, but suddenly and with no warning, it fell backwards and disappeared. Released, Sam yanked the Ring off his finger, gasping and fighting for breath.  
  
Gorek had regained his footing and yanked the Ringwraith from behind, flinging it away from Sam. The battle was rejoined. Panic-stricken, Merry crawled back to where Sam lay. "Sam!" he gasped again, "We must leave now, while they're still fighting! It's our only hope!' However, his heart grew cold as he looked upon his friend. Sam's face had lost what little color it had and his eyes were closed and shadowed. "Sam!' he cried again, even more frantically. There was no time to spare!  
  
Sam felt so very cold and his body shook with a fierce bout of coughing. He opened his eyes and looked hopelessly at Merry. "Mr. Merry!" he croaked weakly, "It's no use - I'm all done in." He coughed again, sounding worse than ever. Suddenly, a small spark of hope lit his glassy eyes as an idea came to him. "Merry!' he wheezed urgently, grabbing his companion's arm, "You must take the Ring and escape! Now!"  
  
Merry stared at him, aghast. "No, Sam! I can't do that! I can't leave you here!"  
  
Sam pulled himself up, his face set with grim determination. "It's our only hope, Mr. Merry!" he whispered , "That monster wants me. I'm bettin' he doesn't even know about the Ring. You can take it and get back to Gandalf and the others. He won't waste time goin' after you as long as he has me! Besides," he collapsed limply back onto the ground, "Without Mr. Frodo, I don't much care if I live or die."  
  
"But Sam!' replied Merry desperately, "Frodo was still alive when I left! Pippin and I rescued him!"  
  
For a moment, Sam's heart filled with hope, but then the image of Frodo standing on the rock came back to him. Maybe Frodo had been alive when Merry left, but Sam was certain he wasn't any longer. "It doesn't matter," he sighed dully. "The important thing is to get the Ring away from here." He turned his sunken eyes towards Merry again. "You must do this now. Before it's too late!" Sam, summoning up what little strength he had left, grabbed Merry's hand and pressed the Ring into it. His body shuddered and for a moment, Sam fought an overpowering urge to snatch it back, but his innate love for Frodo and the others overcame the Ring's hold upon him. "Go now," he whispered faintly and sank into unconsciousness.  
  
Merry stared in horror at the small golden ring cupped in his hand. It was surprisingly heavy and cold. Almost immediately, he sensed a murmuring in the back of his mind and finally had an inkling of what Frodo and now Sam, had been experiencing. He looked down at Sam, tears in his eyes. He knew Sam was right and he had to go. Again, the fate of the Ring was in his hands. He draped the chain over his head and tucked the Ring inside his shirt. He laid a gentle hand on Sam's head and whispered, "I'll be back for you, Sam! I promise!"  
  
He looked out towards where the Uruk and Wraith were sparring, both had their swords out. Seeing his opportunity, he crept out from the grotto and scurried back down the path from which they'd come. He stopped for just a moment when he heard the Nazgul's horrible scream of fury and watched as the Uruk flung it over the bluff into the river below. Oddly, knowing that the Uruk had triumphed gave Merry hope. At least Sam would live awhile longer. He glanced back at Sam's forlorn figure, unmoving among the rocks, then with tears flowing unrestrained, Merry turned and disappeared down the path. 


	15. Encounters in the Dark

Author's Note: Well guys, here is another update! Once again, I got it out a bit quicker than I had anticipated. I'm sorry to say, there are only a couple of chapters left (unless I decide to make some major changes). However, I really need to finish this tale so I can get back to my work (Hmm. Should I sit down and read "The Seven Ages of Information Retrieval" for class or spend time writing about abused hobbits? Hmmm - tough choice!)  
  
Samwise the Brave: Ooops! Sorry I confused you with Gamgeefest (Samwise, Gamgee much too related!). Anyway, I think at least for the moment I will have to decline your generous offer to join your group. I really am falling behind in school and everything else that needs doing in my life. Plus, other than that great novel I wrote in 7th grade, you have read all my stories - all three of them! It may be awhile before I write any more. It's too addicting! However, when things lighten up, I'll check back with you. It really is nice to be wanted!  
  
Chapter 15 Encounters in the Dark  
  
Aragorn led the others down into a ravine, following Merry's clear trail. They all felt more encouraged knowing that that were at least going in the right direction. Once they were in the ravine, they moved more quickly. There was no place for them to go except straight ahead.  
  
"Aragorn!" cried Legolas from a little distance ahead. He was squatting by the trail carefully examining the tracks. His eyes were troubled. When Aragorn reached him, Legolas stood and said quietly, "Uruk." Aragorn's eyes narrowed as he examined the tracks for himself. There was no doubt. An Uruk-hai had obviously made his way into the ravine from above and if the tracks were any indication, it now had Merry. Aragorn lowered his head in frustration. This was getting worse and worse! He stood up as the rest of the party joined them.  
  
"Is something wrong?" asked Pippin apprehensively.  
  
It was a moment before Aragorn spoke. He sighed heavily and said, "It appears an Uruk-hai has Merry. At least, I am assuming it is Merry." Frodo and Pippin cried out in dismay.  
  
"We must move with greater speed," said Gandalf grimly. "I suspect it believes it has Sam, but we do not know for sure. It may be that both hobbits have been captured."  
  
The Fellowship hurried on, determined to locate their missing companions and to bring the One Ring back to safety. It was late in the afternoon that Legolas stopped again, his keen eyes scanning the sky above. "Scavengers," he said simply as he pointed to the black shapes wheeling high overhead. Frodo felt a chill run down his spine. Did this mean they had already lost Merry or Sam? They moved quickly ahead and it wasn't long before they encountered the sickly-sweet stench of decaying flesh.  
  
They rounded a bend in the ravine and were met by a flock of large, black scavenging birds all fighting over something hidden in their midst.. Boromir and Aragorn strode ahead, scattering the screeching birds in their wake. They stopped in surprise when they realized the form in the center was not that of a hobbit, but of a large Uruk-hai. Aragorn stared at the sword protruding from the creature's chest for a moment, then holding the Uruk's body down with his foot, Aragorn seized the hilt of the sword and pulled it free, dripping black blood. "This is Sam's sword!" he exclaimed in wonder. "And look!" he reaching down to the Uruk's belt. "Here is Merry's!"  
  
Boromir frowned as Aragorn wiped the blood from Sam's sword. "Do you truly believe that Sam was actually able to slay this Uruk?" he asked skeptically. Although he had become rather fond of the halflings, he found it hard to believe one of them was capable of killing a powerful Uruk-hai single handed.  
  
Aragorn did not answer. He was studying the ground around them. The rest of the Fellowship held back at Aragorn's request. Finally, he stood up and beckoned to them. "Look," he said, pointing towards the wall of the ravine. "One of the hobbits was traveling near the wall so we did not see his tracks. He came in from over there and attacked the Uruk." He then turned around and walked towards the other wall. "But," he continued, "It appears a second Uruk showed up from the opposite direction and took the other hobbit captive." He pointed out the two sets of prints. He didn't point out the drops of blood staining the sandy soil next to them. "It then appears that this Uruk took both hobbits with him." He swept his hair from his face and gave a weak grin. "I think it safe to say, that at this point, both Sam and Merry were alive."  
  
"How far ahead do you think they are?" asked Frodo anxiously. He was relieved to hear that it appeared Sam and Merry were still alive, but feared they would not find them before the Uruk-hai reached Isengard. He shuddered to think what might befall them at the hands of Saruman.  
  
"Three or four hours." sighed Aragorn, "Maybe a little more, maybe a little less."  
  
Merry had never run so fast in his life. He knew there was little hope of reaching Gandalf and the others in time to save Sam, yet he still felt he had to do his best. He owed Sam his life and leaving him in the hands of that vile orc was the hardest thing Merry had ever done in his life, even harder than leaving Pippin and Frodo on the mountain. He silently cursed the Ring and Saruman and every other vile thing he could think of. He knew Sam had been right and that getting the Ring to safety was the most important thing, but still. He hoped he could forgive himself if he was too late to save Sam.  
  
He had no idea how long he had been running, but he knew he couldn't go much further. He had slowed to a stumbling trot. Several times now, his aching legs felt so weak they simply gave out from under him and he fell sprawling into the dirt. The last time, was almost too much. He just didn't know how much longer he could go on. He lay sobbing in exhaustion. "Oh, Sam!" he moaned, "I'm so sorry! I've failed you!" Then, he thought of Sam's gray, haggard face and of what would happen to him if he was delivered into Saruman's hands. This gave Merry the strength to struggle to his feet and stagger forward once more.  
  
It was dark now, and they were now out of the ravine and climbing a bluff overlooking a river. Aragorn insisted they continue on through the night. He felt sure they would catch up if they kept moving. Their pace was slower now as Gandalf feared the use of light would alert the Uruk-hai to their presence. It was well into the night when Legolas quietly called, "Stop! I hear something!" The Fellowship stood still, straining to detect whatever sound had alerted Legolas. Moments later, they all heard it: the sound of stumbling feet and labored breathing. Silently, they ducked into shadows and behind boulders to wait. No sooner had they all disappeared from sight, when a small figure came lurching unsteadily into view.  
  
Without hesitation, Pippin cried, "Merry!" and leaped out, catching his cousin as Merry began to fall again. "Merry! You're alive!" Pippin's eyes were brimming with tears as he eased Merry to the ground. In seconds, Aragorn and Frodo were at his side. Gandalf decided to take a chance, and illuminated his staff. Merry, pale and soaked with sweat, was wheezing, trying to get air into his tortured lungs. Gimli handed him a flask of water, which Merry desperately gulped down, not having had any water since the night before. Aragorn noted the thin red gash across Merry's throat, but didn't see any other obvious injuries.  
  
"Merry," he said quietly. "Are you injured?' Still wheezing and gulping water, Merry shook his head.  
  
"I'm fine!" he was finally able to gasp, "But Sam. we must get Sam!" He closed his eyes wearily.  
  
"What about the Ring?" demanded Boromir more roughly than he intended.  
  
Merry, his chest still heaving, opened his eyes and whispered, "I have it." Then, he slowly reached up and clumsily pulled the silver chain over his head. The Ring glinted in the light from Gandalf's staff. Frodo stared at it, mesmerized, but his emotions were conflicted. On one hand, it was all he could do to keep from snatching it from Merry's hand, but on the other, he dreaded the very thought of bearing that cursed Ring once more. However, he knew his duty, and slowly, reluctantly he held his hand out. Without looking at him, Merry dropped the Ring in Frodo's hand. Taking a deep breath, Frodo placed the Ring over his own head and tucked the Ring out of sight. Merry buried his face in his hands and sat unmoving.  
  
"Where is Sam?" asked Aragorn even more quietly. He could see that Merry was very upset and was trying to keep him focused. "What happened?  
  
Merry reluctantly lifted his tear-stained face and stared off into the darkness and began. "I followed Sam after Pippin found Frodo," he said dully, "I followed him all through the night and into the next day. Then, that Uruk-hai caught me. At first he thought I was Sam, but then he said I didn't look bad enough to have been fighting Saruman's Command, so he was taking me to see someone else. Another giant orc I would guess." He stopped and took another drink of water. He still couldn't look at any of his companions.  
  
"I don't know how far we traveled, but suddenly, there was Sam, his sword drawn." Merry closed his eyes and gave a faint laugh. "He stood right up to that giant Uruk! I didn't even recognize him. Then," he hesitated again, "Sam disappeared." He could hear the sharp gasps from the others. They knew all too well what that meant. "Well," continued Merry, "He actually killed the Uruk, but there was a second one. That one grabbed me and threatened to kill me if Sam didn't show himself. So, Sam did."  
  
Merry stopped again. He was thinking about how shocked he had been by Sam's ghastly, hollow-eyed appearance. The others waited. "The Uruk took us both and ran until it got dark. Then we met the Nazgul." He smiled ruefully, "I never thought I would be glad to have an orc around," he said bemusedly. "But it dropped us and went after the Wraith. I tried to get Sam to come with me so we could escape, but.but he," Merry couldn't continue.  
  
Frodo, staring into space nodded knowingly. "The Ring." he whispered. For the first time, Merry glanced at his cousin. He nodded as well. Frodo understood.  
  
Gandalf placed an encouraging hand on Merry's shoulder, and smiled gently at him. Merry took a deep breath and went on. "The Nazgul got past the orc and came at us." he said with a shudder, hoping to get through this part as quickly as possible. "I.I tried to shield Sam, but it just knocked me aside. Sam was fighting so hard!" The tears flowed freely now as Merry relived those awful moments. "He. put the Ring on and vanished. The Wraith was inches from him, about to grab him and the Ring." Frodo buried his face and gave a small groan. It was like reliving his own fateful encounter with the abhorrent Ringwraiths. The others still said nothing, fearing the worst.  
  
Then, Merry gave another faint smile. "The orc saved us again." he said, a faraway look in his eyes. "He grabbed the Wraith and pulled him away from Sam. Sam took the Ring off almost at once. I crawled over to him and told him we must get away, but." again Merry faltered. "He couldn't do it. He.he looked worse than ever and was so weak. He told me to take the Ring and get away." He broke down at this point. Remembering Sam's still body, lying there in the dark was too much for him. The guilt was overwhelming. Pippin and Frodo both held him as his body was wracked with deep, heart-rending sobs.  
  
"It's alright, Merry," said Frodo through his own tears, "You did what you had to do. We'll get Sam back! You'll see!'  
  
It was then that Boromir spoke, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I fear that we may already be too late."  
  
Frodo turned abruptly, "What do you mean we are "already too late"?" he demanded angrily. "Are you saying we should just abandon Sam to his fate?"  
  
Boromir stared down at the agitated hobbit. He sighed and shaking his head grimly, replied, "No, I mean, that Sam is already as good as dead." 


	16. The Black Shadow

Author's Note: Wow! Another chapter! Who thought I had it in me!?  
  
IFF: You're right, Frodo simply isn't suffering enough, but what can I say? This is Sam's story! LOL!  
  
Chapter 16 The Black Shadow  
  
Saruman was disturbed. Something had happened and he could not make contact with the halfling bringing him the Ring. He feared something had happened to it. He stood atop his mighty fortress awaiting the arrival of a falcon. He had sent the bird to search for Gorek and the hobbit and report back on their progress. It should return at any moment. As he considered the situation, he heard a faint, high-pitched cry high above him and with expectant eyes, watched as the bird streaked towards him. Saruman put up his arms and within moments, the bird had landed with a flurry of feathers. Saruman listened intently to what the bird had to say. It had seen Gorek and the hobbits moving towards Isengard, but it also reported on the ones trailing them. Saruman frowned. He knew that Gandalf would give chase, but he feared they were getting too close. He did not wish to take any chances and decided to take action. After releasing the falcon, he emitted a high, piercing whistle. A short while later, he was answered by the scream of the condor as it soared overhead. Sinking lower, it received its instructions: find Gorek and bring the hobbit back immediately. Saruman watched thoughtfully as the bird disappeared into the clouds.  
  
"I don't understand!" cried Frodo again, This was all making his wounded head throb. "What do you mean?"  
  
Boromir sighed in resignation. "In Gondor, we have fought Nazgul before. Not often, but enough to know what they are capable of. When a warrior fights or gets close to one of the Black Riders, he seems to develop a strange malady that none may cure. We call it the Black Shadow. Its victims fall into a deep sleep, during which they murmur words we cannot understand. Over time, they fall deeper into dream, becoming colder and colder until death finally claims them. No one thus afflicted ever survives. I am sorry Frodo, but I do not believe Sam will still live if ever we catch up to him."  
  
"No!" Frodo shot back, "You can't know that! We have been close to Nazgul before and it didn't happen then! Why should it happen now?"  
  
Boromir turned to Merry. "Merry," he said wearily, "Did Sam appear different to you after the Wraith was pulled away from him?"  
  
Merry stared at Boromir for a moment before nodding miserably. "He.he seemed so weak and even paler than before. He acted as if nothing mattered anymore, even after I told him Frodo was still alive!"  
  
Boromir sighed again before raising his eyes to Frodo's. "I am sorry, Frodo." he said softly.  
  
Frodo leapt unsteadily to his feet, ignoring the waves of dizziness, and stared at the others defiantly. "Well, I for one am NOT going to give up on Sam! If no one will go with me, I shall go find Sam myself!" Pippin, helped Merry to his feet and the three hobbits stood united, side by side, glaring at the big folk.  
  
"Peace!" exclaimed Aragorn with a slight smile, raising his hands in surrender "No one said we were going to leave Sam to perish in the hands of Saruman or his Uruk-hai. What Boromir says may indeed be true. I also have seen the effects of the Black Shadow, but we will not abandon Sam." He now looked around at the others. "However, I suggest that Legolas and I go on ahead. Two may travel more swiftly than eight and Black Shadow or not, Sam's life depends on us retrieving him as soon as possible."  
  
Gandalf nodded. "I confess, I do not like splitting up the Fellowship, but what you say is true. Frodo and Merry are in no condition to continue this grueling pace. Boromir, Gimli, and I will remain here with the hobbits. We will wait for two days, then we will begin traveling back to the north." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "We know Caradhras is no longer a safe route for us. As we discussed before, we must travel through the mines of Moria." Reluctantly, the others agreed.  
  
The hobbits approached Aragorn as he prepared to leave. "Please, Strider," choked Frodo, "Alive or.or not, please bring Sam back to us." Aragorn felt his own throat tighten as he surveyed the stricken faces of the hobbits before him. He smiled grimly and nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. He clapped Frodo on the shoulder, then turned to Legolas and the two of them trotted away down the trail.  
  
Panting, Gorek turned away from the edge of the bluff. He had watched with great satisfaction as the wraith disappeared into the foaming rapids below. He flinched slightly as he strode away towards the grotto. Looking down with irritation, he examined the ugly wound inflicted by the Nazgul's blade. Black blood flowed freely down his side. He searched though his pouch and brought forth a small wooden box. He opened it and smeared some dark, foul-smelling stuff over the wound, then bandaged it. That would do.  
  
Now, it was time to get going.  
  
Gorek strode over to the grotto where he had left the halflings and stopped abruptly. He emitted a low, angry growl when he noticed one was gone. However, the other still lay among the rocks. He roughly turned the hobbit over and was relieved to find that at least it was the one he needed. He debated about going to look for the other, but decided not to waste any more time. This one looked worse than ever and it wouldn't do to bring a dead halfling back to Lord Saruman. He absently wondered if that black creature had done something to the small creature. Gorek took a small flask from the same pouch and poured a burning liquid into the unconscious hobbit's mouth. With a cough and a low moan, Sam's eyes slowly opened. At least it was still alive, thought Gorek.  
  
Sam looked up into the night sky feeling as if he were in a dream. He gradually noticed an odd emptiness, as if he had lost something dear to him. Then, he remembered the Ring. His hand unconsciously crept to his breast before he vaguely recalled what had happened. He had given the Ring to Merry to take to safety. Merry.. Had Merry gotten away? Without warning, Gorek seized Sam and pulled him roughly to his feet. Sam stood unsteadily leaning on a rock for support. He couldn't seem to concentrate.  
  
"Alright, rat," snarled Gorek, "Yer friend might be gone, but I've still got you and yer the one Lord Saruman wants." He peered down at Sam's gray, waxen face. "You'd just better not die before we get to Isengard!" Sam blinked vacantly at the Uruk. His eyes felt so heavy and his knees began to buckle. With a growl of aggravation, Gorek grabbed Sam and slung him over his shoulder and started off.  
  
As the night wore on, Gorek found that running was becoming more and more difficult. The morning sun was high in the bright sky when he finally came to halt, his knees buckling beneath him. He sprawled onto the ground, sending the Sam flying. The halfling had been unconscious since they had resumed their journey, yet he continued to ramble incoherently. Gorek shook his head in confusion. What was wrong with him? His limbs suddenly refused to obey him and he became aware of the hot, black blood trickling down his side again. He snarled weakly as he realized that the Nazgul's blade must have been poisoned. Well, he thought foggily, if he was going to die, then so would the halfling. There was no one to rescue him now. With several rattling gasps, Gorek slid into unconsciousness and moments later, was dead.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas sped through the night. They had reached the spot on the bluff where the Orc and Nazgul had battled. Aragorn pointed out the spots of black blood staining the soil and rocks and they felt encouraged that if the Uruk was badly wounded he would be forced to travel more slowly.  
  
It was late in the afternoon when they finally caught sight of their long elusive quarry. "Aragorn, look!" cried Legolas spotting a large dark figure lying prone on the trail some distance below them. "It looks like the Uruk-hai!" Aragorn gave him a relieved smile as they picked up their pace.  
  
Suddenly, a harsh scream split the silence of the mountain air and a huge black shadow passed over them. Looking upwards, Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise as a huge black condor swooped down towards where the Gorek lay, grabbed something from just beyond the body and with powerful strokes of it's expansive wings, began its ascent. "It's got Sam!" cried Aragorn spotting the small figure clasped in the condor's talons. Without a word, Legolas fit an arrow into his bow and let it fly with all the accuracy he could muster. The bird was perhaps fifty feet from the ground when the arrow pierced its heart. With a shriek of pain the bird plummeted towards the ground and disappeared behind the trees.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas ran with all speed towards where they believed the bird to have come down. They raced down the hill, leaping over the orc's body in their path and finally through the thick trees beyond.  
  
"There it is!" cried Aragorn They had come out of the trees into a rock- strewn field. The bird lay in a crumpled heap. "But where is Sam?" Frantically, they searched the surrounding terrain before spying Sam at the bottom of a deep gully. In a shower of dust and gravel, Aragorn slid down to where Sam lay unmoving. The Ranger gently turned him over and felt tears start in his eyes as he gazed upon Sam's pallid face. If he wasn't dead yet, he soon would be. Legolas was watching from the lip of the gully. Aragorn looked up at him. There was still a small chance he could save Sam, but they must act swiftly. "Legolas!" he called, "Quickly! A fire! We must boil some water." Legolas nodded and disappeared.  
  
"Alright, Sam." said Aragorn lifting the hobbit into his arms, "Stay with me! We are not ready to lose you yet!" He laboriously climbed up the gully to where Legolas had started a fire with a small pot of water over it. Legolas turned his worried eyes to Aragorn.  
  
"How is he?"  
  
Aragorn gently laid Sam onto the ground to better examine him. Sam's left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, obviously broken in his fall. There may be other injuries as well, thought Aragorn, but they would have to wait. Sam's shallow breathing was labored and congested, but his body felt eerily cold. His gray face just confirmed Aragorn's fears. He was suffering the last stages of the Black Shadow. "Oh Sam," sighed Aragorn quietly, "I am terribly sorry you have had to suffer so." He gently pushed Sam's matted curls from his brow.  
  
Legolas joined them a few moments later with the hot water. Aragorn took a pouch from his belt and removed several leaves of dried athelas and placed them in the water. "After what happened to Frodo on Weathertop," he remarked, "I felt it would be prudent to carry some of these with me." Although not as powerful as newly picked leaves, the fresh fragrance of the athelas wafted over them, making their hearts feel lighter despite the dire circumstances.  
  
Aragorn looked down at Sam, took a deep breath, and laid his hands firmly on Sam's brow. "Come back to us, Sam." he called softly, "Sam, please come back." For many long moments Aragorn remained thus, softly calling while Legolas held the steeping athelas nearby. Sam remained unchanged.  
  
Finally, Aragorn sat back, his face pale and exhausted, his eyes full of grief. He closed them for a few moments before raising them to meet those of Legolas. "He will not return." Aragorn said sorrowfully. "He feels he has nothing left to live for. He welcomes death."  
  
Legolas frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. How could anyone welcome death? He thought a moment. "We must take him to Frodo." he said simply. Aragorn looked up at him again, hope beginning to take form in his heart.  
  
"Yes!" he whispered, excitedly. "Yes! I cannot call him back, but maybe Frodo can!" 


	17. Friends and Foes

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in getting this posted. Life keeps getting in the way! I'm sad to say, there is but one more chapter after this. I'm always sad when it comes to an end, but things are so busy now, I guess it is just as well!  
  
IFF: You are right, I really should have put some little asterisks or something between the different sections. Normally, I have chapters finished several days before I post them so I can try and avoid things like that. However, caught up with myself and kind of rushed those last couple of chapters. I will file that thought away for future reference.  
  
Thank you again, for all the reviews!  
  
Chapter 17 Friends and Foes  
  
Gandalf sat by the fire with Gimli, watching as the dwarf stirred a pot of stew. He then glanced over to where Merry and Frodo lay wrapped in blankets, fast asleep. He had given them a potion to make them sleep. Both were in dire need of rest, but given their anxiety about Sam, Gandalf felt it was necessary to administer something to help them relax. Next he looked up to where Pippin sat, high atop a tree, watching for any sign of Aragorn and Legolas' return. Boromir was out searching for more firewood and keeping watch.  
  
"I hope for their sakes," said Gimli nodding towards the sleeping hobbits, "Aragorn is able to find poor Master Gamgee alive and well. If not, the guilt will eat them alive."  
  
Gandalf stared at Gimli with mild surprise. The dwarf was rarely that observant when it came to the emotions of hobbits. "Yes, you are quite correct, Gimli," he sighed worriedly. "I feel that if Sam dies, Frodo's quest may end before it really gets started. I don't think even Frodo fully understands how important Sam is to him. I have been watching them. Frodo is turning more and more inwards as the Ring's hold on him grows. Sam is the only one who truly sees that and may be able to help Frodo in that battle. To be honest, if Frodo could take but one companion with him to Mordor, I would choose Samwise Gamgee."  
  
Now it was Gimli's turn to look surprised, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Pippin's voice rang out from his post, "I see them!" he cried excitedly, "They're coming and I think they have Sam!".  
  
Gandalf and Gimli stood up and a few moments later, Boromir returned, his arms full of wood. Pippin scrambled down the tree and ran to join them. "Shouldn't we wake Frodo and Merry?" he panted. "They would want to be awake when Aragorn and Legolas arrive!" Gandalf hesitated. He hated to rouse them when they so desperately needed the rest, yet he knew, they would never forgive him if he didn't.  
  
So, with a sigh, Gandalf walked over to Frodo and gently shook him. "Frodo." he said quietly, "Frodo, wake up. Aragorn is coming." Frodo's eyes slowly opened as he regarded the wizard sleepily, but when Gandalf's words finally sunk in, he sat up abruptly.  
  
He inhaled sharply from the pain in his head, but turned eagerly towards the trail. "Where is he?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Does he have Sam?" Merry was also awake now and Pippin sat beside him.  
  
"I think so!" said Pippin eagerly, "I saw Strider carrying what looked like a hobbit sized bundle. What else could it be, if not Sam?"  
  
They all got to their feet now and stood watching anxiously it. It seemed like hours before Aragorn and Legolas appeared around the bend of the trail. Aragorn slowed to halt, regarding the gathered members of the Fellowship watching him expectantly. "He is alive." he announced hesitantly looking down at the bundle he carried He would have said more, but Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were upon him with cries of joy and concern.  
  
"Where is he?" cried Frodo unsteadily, "I must see him" Frodo's face beneath his bandage was pale with worry. He had to know if Sam would be alright.  
  
"Frodo, wait!" cried Aragorn stepping back, tightening his grip on Sam, "Listen to me!" The hobbits backed off a step staring at Aragorn in alarm, while Gandalf and the others gathered round. Aragorn sighed, then gazed intently at Frodo. "Frodo," he began grimly, "Yes, Sam is alive, but just barely. He is ill and injured, but worst of all, Boromir was right. The Black Shadow is upon him."  
  
"NO!" cried Frodo, his eyes wide in horror and disbelief, "It can't be! Can't you do anything for him?" Gandalf quickly grabbed Frodo's arm to support him as the hobbit's knees went weak. Merry had buried his face in his hands, sobbing quietly. Pippin tenderly put his arm around his cousin's shoulder, his own face pinched with sorrow.  
  
Aragorn walked over to the fire and gently lay Sam near its warmth. Frodo sank to the ground and cradled Sam's head in his lap. Tears were running down his face as he realized he barely recognized his dearest friend. "Oh Sam!" he whispered shaking his throbbing head, "What have they done to you?"  
  
Aragorn crouched down, again staring into Frodo's eyes. "Frodo," he began, "I have tried to help Sam, to recall him from the dark valley, but he will not come. He has lost all hope and believes you to be dead." Frodo closed his eyes in pain and buried his face in Sam's hair. "But," continued Aragorn, touching Frodo's arm, "I think there is still hope."  
  
Frodo raised his anguished face to stare at Aragorn with a longing born of the deepest desperation. "There is hope? What can we do?"  
  
Aragorn glanced over towards Legolas who had just taken a pot of steaming water off the fire, then looked back at Frodo. "I cannot call him back," replied Aragorn fervently, again gripping Frodo's arm, "But I think you can."  
  
Frodo gently stroked Sam's head as he stared at Aragorn . He glanced down at his friend's haggard face then said, "What must I do?"  
  
Aragorn took the water and again immersed some of his dried athelas to produce the invigorating scent, fresh as the first day of spring. Then he turned to Frodo. "While I attempt to bring him back, you must call him. Do not stop. I believe that if he hears your voice, he will regain his will to live. It is our only hope. Do you understand?"  
  
Frodo chewed his lip nervously and nodded. Aragorn gave him an encouraging smile, then closing his eyes, laid his hands on Sam's brow. Frodo looked down at Sam again, his eyes brimming with fresh tears, then taking Sam's cold hand he called softly, longingly "Sam! Sam! Do you hear me? Please don't leave me, Sam! I need you! I can't finish the quest without you. Do you hear me, Samwise Gamgee? You must come back!"  
  
No one else spoke. Gandalf had placed supporting hands on both Merry and Pippin as they sobbed beside him. Boromir, Gimli, and Legolas looked on, their faces heavy with grief and apprehension. The minutes dragged on. Still Sam did not respond. But Frodo would not give up. Over and over he called Sam's name, begging him to come back, demanding he do so. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sam's breathing became a little deeper, a little stronger. At first, Frodo wouldn't allow himself to believe it was actually happening, but then, Sam gave a short cough. Then another. In a few moments, his eyes slid open and his coughing renewed.  
  
"Sam!" cried Frodo joyfully, hugging the gardener to his breast, "Sam! You're alive!"  
  
"Mr. Frodo!?" choked Sam in disbelief. His sunken eyes stared at Frodo, barely able comprehend what he saw. Here before him was his own beloved master, alive! Sam weakly grasped Frodo with his good arm and rasped, "You're, you're not dead? I..I didn't kill you?" His face was filled with hope. He so wanted to believe this was real and not some hallucination.  
  
"No, Sam!" laughed Frodo through his tears, "I'm very much alive! Just like you!" The others began to laugh in relief as they all gathered around to greet the newly revived Sam. For the first time in days, the Fellowship felt lighthearted and almost giddy to be all together again.  
  
Sam lay in Frodo's arms, still confused. It still hadn't completely sunk in that Frodo was undoubtedly alive. He had no idea how he managed to find himself safe and sound in the arms of his friends but he couldn't have been happier to be there. . It was then he became aware of the throbbing in his arm and ribs. In fact, whenever he moved, his whole body felt badly bruised. He was about to mention this when abruptly, unexpectedly his head exploded in fierce, blinding pain and all went black.  
  
Frodo was smiling up at Merry and Pippin, feeling so happy and his heart light, when without warning and with strength none could have suspected, Sam sprang from Frodo's arms. He grabbed Frodo around the neck with his broken arm, the makeshift split Aragorn had applied on the trail pressed firmly against the astonished Frodo's throat. In his other hand, he held his dagger, pulled from its sheath. Its sharp tip digging into Frodo, just below his ribs. Sam's eyes were black and glittering.  
  
The others leapt back in shock. Only Gandalf seemed unsurprised. "Saruman." his voice low and dangerous. "Let him go!"  
  
Sam's glittering eyes narrowed, his mouth curling into a amused sneer. "So Gandalf. Do you honestly believe that I would allow your meddling to go unpunished? What better revenge than to kill your sniveling little ring- bearer and what better joke than for it to be at the hands of his dear, little friend!"  
  
The others all stared in confusion. The voice coming from Sam's mouth was deep and full of malice, nothing like Sam's own normal quiet one. "Sam?" choked Frodo, trying to look back at his friend, to catch his eye. He felt certain he could stop this if he could just get Sam to look at him, but Sam refused. His only response was to press harder on Frodo's throat.  
  
"You will achieve nothing!" snapped Gandalf angrily, "The Ring will still be out of your reach regardless of who carries it. Killing Frodo is the act of a coward!"  
  
Sam laughed derisively, his glittering, hate-filled eyes never leaving Gandalf's face. "Maybe it is." he agreed matter-of-factly, "But it will cause you pain and I will be content with that."  
  
Gandalf stared at Sam, studying his eyes. It was there he had his first inkling that Sam was fighting against Saruman's possession. For the merest fraction of a second, the glittering would disappear. If one was not watching for it, it would have gone unnoticed. But Gandalf understood its meaning. Saruman may not be in total control.  
  
"I grow weary of this farce," said Sam suddenly, his voice harsh and forbidding. "It is time to end this!" And then, several things happened at once. Saruman, controlling Sam's dagger, thrust it towards Frodo, but at the same time, that part of Sam that refused to submit , shoved Frodo away as hard as he could. Propelled forward, Frodo sprawled into Aragorn's arms. The knife, instead of connecting with Frodo, plunged in Sam's exposed side. Sam staggered forward, his eyes wide in shock. He slowly sank his knees, gasping in pain, a bright red stain of blood surrounding the knife's hilt blossomed across Sam's tattered shirt. For just a moment, it was Sam again, but then, the black glittering eyes, filled with deepest loathing, returned.  
  
Gandalf now approached Sam and raising is staff high he pronounced in his thunderous voice, "You will now leave Saruman! You shall release this hobbit or you will die with him!"  
  
Still gasping, Sam laughed again, roughly pulled the knife from his side and raised in again, preparing to administer a fatal blow. "At least I can take this one!" he rasped.  
  
"Noooo!" cried Frodo and pushing himself out of Aragorn's arms, the desperate hobbit threw himself onto Sam, seizing the knife from his startled grasp and hurled it away. Aragorn and Boromir rushed forward, pulled Frodo away, then seized the struggling Sam. Gandalf approached, his staff held at the ready and in a low voice, he began chanting in a language so ancient, none there recognized it. None, save Saruman. Saruman screamed in fury and frustration as he felt himself being cast out from Sam's mind and barred from it forever.  
  
Sam's body convulsed once as Saruman fled, then collapsed. No one moved for a moment, then Frodo crawled to Sam's side. "Sam?" he whispered, his voice rough with despair. "Sam?'  
  
Aragorn moved to Sam's side and tore open his bloodstained shirt. Boromir joined him. Both had had much experience dealing with battlefield wounds. Sam was bleeding badly and his body rocked by violent shudders. Aragorn looked at Sam's pale face and was dismayed to see it bathed in a clammy sweat. If they could not stop the bleeding quickly, he woud die. Gandalf knelt by Sam's head and lifting it, gently, poured a small amount of golden liquid from a small, square bottle between the hobbit's bluish lips. Sam's labored breathing eased slightly.  
  
"Is he.will he be alright?" asked Frodo watching anxiously as Boromir gently cleaned the deep gash in Sam's side with the fragrant athelas water. Aragorn was preparing to stitch the wound closed.  
  
"I hope so, Frodo." replied Aragorn carefully examining the still- bleeding wound. "Sam has been through a lot, but he's a fighter. Now that he knows you are alive, he will not give up easily."  
  
Aragorn worked feverishly to save Sam's life. He and Boromir were able to stop the bleeding and after stitching and bandaging the wound, Aragorn resplinted Sam's arm and wrapped his injured ribs. Boromir sat back, shaking his head in wonder. "I still do not understand why this halfling is not dead!" he said, watching Aragorn, "I have seen many a soldier die from injuries and maladies far less dangerous than those this little fellow has sustained. Yet, he does not give up!"  
  
Aragorn gave a small smile, and gazing fondly as Sam's ashen face, nodded "Yes, they are an amazing people!" As soon as the Ranger had finished tending Sam's injuries, he wrapped Sam in a warm blanket, then lay his hand on Sam's head for a few moments. Frodo, Merry, and Pippin sat close by, waiting, a mixture of hope and fear reflected in their faces.  
  
Aragorn, wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to them. "I have put Sam into a healing sleep," he said. "He is close to death, but he is fighting hard now." He closed his eyes wearily for a moment, sighed, then looked at Frodo. "Stay close to him, Frodo. Talk to him, let him know you are near. Your voice, more than any other, is the one he needs to hear." 


	18. Forgiveness

Well, guys this is it. The last chapter. Guess it did turn out to be as long as "The Long Way Home". Ah well! I hope you all enjoyed reading it. I can't tell you how much your reviews meant to me. I don't know that I'll be writing any more Sam fictions for awhile (might try a "Hogan's Heroes one though, I always like that show!). I think I've made poor Sam suffer enough for awhile ( and I'm not really interested in writing romance). But, who knows?  
  
IFF: Your reviews and comments have always been insightful and helpful. I certainly appreciate constructive criticism and encouragement. You have been a great reviewer!  
  
I would also like to thank Minty, Gamgeefest, Samwise the Strong, Bookworm 2000, Aemilia Rose, Amrun, Guyuumajo, FrodoBaggins87, Person of the Cheesy Names, for your many reviews. I truly appreciated the encouragement!  
  
I would also like to thank Motormouth, Wanda, ElvinPirate, Tinuviel of Ringzone, Senni, Three-fifthling Ringwraith, Entwife, and Kay for taking the time to review! You guys are the best!  
  
Anway, here is the end. I hope you like it.  
  
Chapter 18 Forgiveness  
  
Frodo sat by his friend's side, hour after hour, rarely straying more than few yards. He talked to Sam, reminiscing about their lives in the Shire, talking of the friends they left behind. He told him stories. He sang to him in a low soothing voice, every song he could remember. He held his hand, gently bathed his pale, feverish brow with water steeped in athelas, but most of all, he loved him.  
  
They stayed in the glen for two days, giving Sam's condition time to stabilize. Frodo never left him, his own pains forgotten. Finally, Gandalf declared they must be on their way. Aragorn carefully examined Sam and decided it would be safe to move him. So, on the morning of the third day, the Fellowship packed up their camp and departed for the north. Still deep in his dreamless sleep, they carried Sam carefully on the long journey towards Moria.  
  
It was the laughter that woke Sam. He heard it first from far away, then gradually it became louder until he realized it was coming from right beside him. He didn't want to open his eyes for fear that it would disappear, proving to be no more than a dream. He listened and heard what sounded like Gimli the dwarf telling some rollicking tale involving a love- sick cave troll and a band of lost dwarves. Others were laughing as the tale went on. If I open my eyes, thought Sam groggily, I know it will all be dream, but it certainly is a nice one. With a smile on his lips, Sam slept once more.  
  
When he woke again, all was quiet. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the silver dusted sky above. It was night. He blinked trying to figure out exactly where he was. He felt a gentle touch on his brow. He started to move, then winced at the sharp pains in his chest and side. A quiet voice said, "Lie easy, Sam." Sam froze, then turned his head slightly to see Aragorn, his pipe glowing in the darkness, smiling down at him.  
  
"Strider?" whispered Sam in confusion. "Am I dead?"  
  
Aragorn gave a small laugh, "No, Master Gamgee," he replied, "You are still alive, maybe not well, but most certainly alive! You have been in a healing sleep for these past few days, but I felt it was time to wake you before we reach the mines of Moria."  
  
Sam lay quietly for a moment as he digested this. "Mr. Frodo? And Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin? Are--are they all right?" He chewed his lip anxiously.  
  
"Yes, Sam." Aragorn said, still smiling, "They are well. They have all been very worried about you."  
  
Sam closed his eyes. He suddenly felt weary beyond words. "I don't see why. How can Mr. Frodo ever forgive me for what I tried to do to him? I deserved all that I got!" A glistening tear slipped unbidden down his pale cheek.  
  
Aragorns's face softened as he saw the anguish in Sam's face. "Sam," he said, laying a hand on the hobbit's arm, "You are not to blame for any of this. In truth, you are the only reason that Frodo still lives. Not many could resist the Command of a powerful wizard such as Saruman. Saruman wanted Frodo dead, but you prevented that. Even to the point of sacrificing your own life. Frodo does not hate you! He understands more than anyone what you have suffered and his affection for you is stronger than ever. He risked his own life as well, to save yours. You are very important to Frodo, Sam."  
  
Sam looked at the Ranger sitting beside him, doubt clouding his eyes. "Do you really think so?" he asked uncertainly. "I couldn't bear Mr. Frodo hatin' me, but I would understand if he did. I did some terrible things." His throat constricted with unshed tears. "I could have ruined everything." he whispered.  
  
"But you did not, Sam, and that's the main thing." Aragorn could tell convincing Sam to forgive himself might be the hardest thing of all. "You did not give the Ring to Saruman and you did not kill Frodo. You single- handedly ruined Saruman's plan. Do not punish yourself for what you did or did not do!" Aragorn smiled again and gently lay his hand on Sam's brow. "Now, Samwise Gamgee, I think it is time for sleep."  
  
When Sam woke the next morning, he knew it was not a dream. He could smell food cooking over the fire and his stomach gave a loud rumble. He opened his eyes to see Frodo, Merry, and Pippin smiling down at him. "It's about time you woke, you lazy, layabout!" scolded Pippin laughingly. "Strider told us you would wake this morning, so Gimli and Merry prepared a special breakfast for you! It will be ready in a bit. I fancy you must be starved!"  
  
"Pippin!" chided Merry, "Give poor Sam some peace! He just woke up!" Merry turned back to Sam. "We've been that worried about you, Sam! Frodo wouldn't leave your side for a moment!" He paused a moment, looking very serious. "I . I wanted to thank you for rescuing me from that orc." he said quietly. He lay a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I've never met a braver hobbit!"  
  
Pippin stared at Sam with shining eyes. "Did you really slay an Uruk- hai, Sam?" Boromir, who sat nearby, looked over at this question, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Sam felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Well, I couldn't have done it without Mr. Bilbo's ring." he said uncomfortably. "I reckon I didn't really know what I was doing!" They all laughed at that.  
  
"Come on, Pippin," said Merry getting to his feet. "Let's go find Sam's breakfast!" With that, Merry and Pippin headed off to the fire, obstensibly to get Sam's breakfast, but in reality to give Frodo and Sam a moment alone.  
  
"How are you feeling, Sam?" asked Frodo, a concerned look on his face.  
  
"Oh, I'm fine, Mr. Frodo!" claimed Sam bravely. He made an attempt to sit up and gasped in pain, his face going pale as a wave of dizziness swept over him.  
  
"Let that be a lesson to you, Master Gamgee!" called Aragorn from a few feet away. "I suggest you lie quietly."  
  
Sam looked back at Frodo as he settled back down. "Well, maybe I'm not quite as fine as I aught to be." conceded Sam sheepishly, still wincing in pain. "But, I'll be right as rain in another day or two!"  
  
Frodo laughed. "I think it might take more than a day or two, but Strider assures us you'll recover. As long as you don't over exert yourself! He said he would have preferred to keep you asleep for a least a week or two, but it would be best if you were awake when we go through Moria."  
  
Sam looked puzzled at this. "Why should it matter if I was awake or not?"  
  
"Because, Samwise" Gandalf had joined them, his eyes gazing fondly at the two hobbits, "There are dark things lurking in those mines and we may all have to fight at some point. It would be best if you were awake in case you need to defend yourself." He smiled warmly at Sam. "Good to see you awake again, Samwise. I am sure Saruman will think twice before trying to abuse hobbits again!" With a small laugh, he gave Sam an encouraging pat, then strode off to start packing up camp.  
  
Sam and Frodo stared at each other. Then, Sam turned away, unable to meet his master's gaze any longer.  
  
"Sam?" asked Frodo gently, looking questioningly at his friend.  
  
Sam closed his eyes, his jaw clenched as if in great pain. He was fighting back the tears of guilt and remorse. He was silent a moment, then taking deep breath said, "I . never meant to hurt you, Mr. Frodo and I understand if you don't want me to be your gardener any more." He said this very quickly and still could not meet Frodo's eyes.  
  
Frodo stared at Sam totally nonplussed. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him that Sam would really blame himself for what had happened. They all knew it was Saruman's doing and no one held it against the humble gardener. "Sam!" he exclaimed in disbelief, "You saved my life! You defeated Saruman! Why on earth would I hold that against you!?"  
  
"I tried to kill you, Mr. Frodo! Not once, but twice! That's not somethin' you're likely to forget!" Sam looked more miserable than ever, still looking away.  
  
"Samwise Gamgee!" exclaimed Frodo, a touch of outrage coloring his tone. "Do you honestly believe that I would cast you aside because of what Saruman made you do? It was NOT your fault! When will you get that through your thick Gamgee skull!? These past days have been a nightmare and even now, I worry you won't recover! You mean the world to me and I would as soon kill myself than have anything happen to you!"  
  
Sam turned and gaped at Frodo, not expecting this emotional outburst. Then flushing, he looked down at his hands. A moment later, a tear trickled down, then another. Sam wiped them away self-consciously. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo." was all he said.  
  
Frodo smiling in relief, took Sam's hand and said, "You're welcome." The two stayed like that for a few moments until Merry and Pippin arrived with breakfast. They gently helped Sam sit up a little. Sam tried not to wince, but sighed in relief when he was comfortably settled. He then eagerly tucked into the first food he'd had in days.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam hesitantly, swallowing a mouthful of porridge, "After all the horrid things we've been through since we left the Shire, surely you don't think what's ahead can be any worse than what we've already been through?"  
  
Frodo looked out across the clearing where they were camped. "I don't know, Sam." he said distantly, absently fingering the Ring beneath his shirt. "I fear there are many more terrible things out there waiting for us." He blinked then smiled down at Sam again. "But, with Gandalf and the others with us, I'm sure everything will work out."  
  
A short while later, with Sam nestled securely in Boromir's strong arms, and the camp all packed up, the Fellowship of the Ring began their final ascent to the Mines of Moria. It was time to resume their quest to destroy the One Ring. Sam took a last look behind them and thought, "Surely, it won't be any worse." Then with a sigh, looked on ahead, hoping he was ready for what was to come.  
  
The End 


End file.
